Monster Monster
by MaggieMay21
Summary: S5 Spoilers-Something's happened to Sam, and it's something Dean doesn't want to see happen after just getting his brother back. Out of despiration, Dean goes to the angels to save Sam, but at what cost? Something completely random, I rewrote S5. Haha
1. White Out

_Chapter 1_

* * *

It was the middle of the night, Sam and Dean had just gotten themselves out of a rather easy hunt. It was a usual haunting, two people had been found dead in their apartment, but there were no signs of forced entry while the door was locked and the alarm was on.

After about a week of hard digging, Sam and Dean found out that this particular spirit was tied to a cursed object – which in this case happened to be a painting of a rather depressing looking landscape with a black and white tint.

A dead black tree overlooked a rather drone looking mountain of sorts, or maybe it was just a large hill…? Either way, it was odd that the spirit found itself teathered to this painting.

It didn't matter much though, the painting was toast now and the spirit was finally put to rest.

Now, Dean was behind the wheel of his slick black Impala with Sam riding shot-gun, passed out and snoring loudly.

Sam had been spewing on about another hunt in the next town over saying that this was definitely something one of a kind.

And Dean wasn't disagreeing, it certainly was a hell of a case.

From the looks of it, vampires were taking over this small town of Hawthorne. But it didn't seem like a usual vampire hunt. Too many people had already gone missing.

Usually, vampires would take one or two people at a time in a town to avoid suspicion from the locals. But it was more than that this time.

Last week, ten people went missing in that town.

From their behavior, Sam and Dean guessed that this was a huge nest.

Or they just didn't care about being caught anymore…what with the world coming to a screeching halt and everything now that Lucifer has been raised.

Either way, it didn't really matter much. They were going to die.

**xXx**

By early afternoon, Sam and Dean made it to Hawthorne. Dean got out of the car to check a room out at their new temporary home, while Sam unpacked the car of their belongings.

Dean got a single key with the number 'four' on it, and headed back outside to where his brother was. Sam stood outside the car looking exhausted with five duffle bags laying at his feet as he waited for Dean to tell him which room they were staying in.

Dean held up the key and flashed his brother a cocky grin as he lead him to their room. Sam followed with two bags, one over each shoulder.

Dean unlocked the door, and opened it up for Sam to walk through with their bags. When Sam plopped the bags on the ground by the door, they both walked back to the car and gathered the rest of their things.

Moments later when all of the bags lay in a messy pile by the front door, Sam pulled out his laptop while Dean began going through one of the two bags full of weapons.

"What do we got?" Dean asked abesently as he pulled a scythe out of the duffel, flipped it around in his hands for a moment, and then placed it neatly on his bed.

"Same as before." Sam noted tiredly as his eyes scanned the computer screen, "I think these are definitely vamps though…no question."

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked as he pulled out a machette.

"Because…Amanda Marrok was just found..." Sam said with a look of disgust on his face as he still stared at the screen, "apparently she was found with a large bite mark in her neck, and her inner thigh."

"Amanda Marrok," Dean said in a whisper as he searched his mind for that name, "one of the ten that went missing last week?"

"Yep," Sam replied with a nod, "authorities say they're looking into it…but I doubt they are."

"Why?" Dean prodded.

"Because," Sam replied with a mirthless chuckle, "this is a small town…if all ten of these people are dead, then that officially counts in the books as a 'serial murder'. That's when the sheriff is supposed to bring in the FBI…but there's nothing. It just says 'the investigation is ongoing.'"

"Maybe it is," Dean argued, "I mean you and I know what happened. But to the local authorities there's no real evidence these people are dead."

"This town's too scared to go looking for something that was able to take ten people in one week, Dean. They know they're not in control of this situation." Sam said sternly.

"Whatever." Dean commented with a shrug, "We gonna get in to see her body?"

"Yea," Sam replied with a nod, "we should check it out for ourselves."

**xXx**

By late afternoon, Sam and Dean were dressed in rented suits and shined shoes. Sam went to far as to slick his hair back to play the part of a Private Investigator.

They made it to the morgue in record time and flashed their fake badges at the woman behind the front desk.

Sam playing the role as Detective Lee, and Dean as Detective Ulrich.

The woman, having been satisfied waved them quickly into the back room to wait for further instructions.

After waiting for almost a half hour, a man in his late thirties with short choppy brown hair, in a while lab coat waved the boys into the

The man closed the door behind the 'Detectives' and then turned to face them with a polite smile on his face.

"The sheriff didn't tell me you guys were coming." The man said simply as he walked past Sam and Dean toward the wall of shelves containing what Sam and Dean knew were dead bodies.

"One of the victims family members called us in." Dean fibbed, "I'm not at liberty to say who exactly."

Accepting the lie, the man nodded quickly before crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what brings you here?" He asked almost defensively.

"We were hoping to get a look at Amanda Marrok's body." Sam said in a calm, and even tone.

"What for?" The man snapped.

"Just to see the condition of the body," Dean interjected, "because if one of the ten people that went missing was found dead…then chances are that they all are. We just want to take a look and see what condition we might expect to see the others in."

"Very ominus of you." The man commented before nodding feverishly in agreement.

He then turned around and looked at all the labels on the shiny doors looking for Amanda Marrok's corpse.

Finally after only a moment, he opened the third one on the second row and slid the shelf out – revealing a mass under a white sheet.

The man pulled the sheet back to show off the petite, gray skinned college girl with short blond hair that only came up to her shoulders.

The most disturbing thing about this picture, was not what Sam and Dean were expecting. At all.

With usual vampires, there were numerous puncture marks in a half circle, or the neck was torn out completely depending on how aggressive the vampire is.

But the girl only had two small puncture wounds in her neck.

Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he stared down at the girls' neck.

"What the hell?" Sam muttered as he leaned in for a closer look.

"I know!" The man exclaimed with a shrug, "This doesn't make a lick of sense."

"So whoever her killer was…he obviously couldn't have been working alone." Sam noted as he dared lower the white sheet to get a look on her condition.

Bruises and red sores assaulted her battered body. On her torso, her arms, her legs, even her hands – suggesting she was in some way tortured before she died.

Disgusted, Sam lowered the sheet – covering Amanda's poor body back up.

"What are your thoughts, doc?" Dean asked the man hotly.

The man shrugged.

"Personally, I think it's a cult. I mean like you said this wasn't a one man job, and those puncture marks in her neck look like something you'd see out of some…vampire movie or something."

Dean nodded, before turning to Sam and patting his shoulder.

"Well thanks for the sneak peak, doc. But we gotta get back to work." Dean said with a tiny smile.

The man nodded simply, and flashed Sam a small look of what looked like interest. Not like arousal, but the man seemed curious about him. But before Sam could make the expression out, the look was gone.

Sam flashed an uncomfortable smile, and then he and Dean headed for the door.

**xXx**

That night, Sam and Dean were sitting in the Impala both holding their machette's just out of sight. They had been scoping this building out for almost an hour now.

It was some old abandoned mill, no one ever came here.

But after visiting the morgue, Sam and Dean went to the bar to maybe have a talk with some of the locals. And wouldn't you know it, right there at the bar – front and center sat Mr. Marrok, Amanda's father.

The older man had been staring down at his bottle with great emotion showing in his eyes. He rubbed his balding head as Sam – the more sympathetic of the duo, came and sat with him.

Sam had asked him what he thought about Amanda's disappearing. Who did he suspect of killing his daughter.

And without hesitation, Mr. Marrok said flat out that it was 'those damned kids who hang out at the abandoned mill, just outside-a town.'

Apparently, the mill had been abandoned for years until about a month ago when all the disappearances and murders started happening. A group of twenty or so kids were squatting at the old mill.

"I don't even know what we're doing here." Dean complained with a sigh.

"What do you mean?" Sam prodded.

"These aren't vamps! Two puncture holes in the neck? Last time we checked on something like this – it turned out to be a psycho backwards shapeshifter, remember?" Dean argued.

"Yea, but shapeshifters are pretty solitary," Sam said calmly, "all these kids cant be shapeshifters. Something's not right here."

"So we're going in there half-cocked like it _is_ a vampire hunt?" Dean snapped irritably.

"Yes." Sam said sternly, and then dropped the argument.

Just then, an old looking truck pulled up to the mill with its headlights off. Sam and Dean took notice of it instantly and ducked down just out of sight so they could see who these people were.

Out of the drivers side, a kid came out – and by kid, he couldn't have been older than nineteen. And out of the passengers' seat was the man who showed them Amanda Marrok's body. The man who worked at the morgue.

Dean's eyebrow quirked at seeing the man, finding the case a little more interesting.

The men hopped out of the truck, and walked toward the front door of the mill. The kid knocked on the door twice, before it opened revealing three other people who Sam and Dean couldn't get a good look at.

"Already outnumbered." Dean muttered.

Sam nodded feverishly, signaling to Dean to get them out of there.

Taking the hint, Dean started up the Impala and drove off toward their motel…not seeing that they had been noticed by the man.

**xXx**

Almost an hour later, they finally made it back to their motel room. Dean tossed the keys to the Impala on his bed, while Sam went and took the bathroom for his shower.

Immediately after closing the bathroom door, Sam had a creeping feeling crawling up his spine that made him really uneasy.

He felt as if he was being watched.

He turned his attention to the showers closed curtains, and quickly pulled it back to reveal an empty bathtub.

Sam smiled at his stupidity. This hunt must have been getting to him.

But then there was a loud hiss, and a heavy pressure that connected with Sam's temple – sending him into the bowels of unconsciousness without even knowing what hit him.

All he saw was white.

* * *

_This is just something else to keep the creative juices flowing. This wont get in the way of 'Hells Bells'. I'll be doing both of them at the same time. :)_


	2. Same Old Blood Rush With A New Touch

_Chapter 2_

* * *

Alright this was weird, Sam had to admit. The last thing he remembered before the threatening white abyss consumed his mind, and ate his thoughs – was going to the bathroom.

Now, there was nothing.

There was no light, there was no dark. There was no scenery, or anything he could see.

He just _was_.

He tried to speak, to call out for help but found that his words were lost. There was no sound.

Why was he here, in this limbo of existance? There was nothing here for him…not even emotion, he found. He noticed that he wasn't scared or worried or angry. He was completely numb.

But that numb didn't last unfortunately.

One moment, he was in this strange plane of existance…and then he was thrust into a brightness filled with immense physical pain causing him to again try and cry out.

What was going on?

**xXx**

If he was being honest, Dean didn't remember what happened. One moment he was sitting on his bed waiting for Sam to get out of the shower, then the next there was a crazy pain in his head before he lost consciousness.

He didn't even see who attacked him.

Dean came too face down on the dark red carpeted floor of the motel room and groaned. He opened his eyes sluggishly as he fought against the nausea that gripped his stomach.

Whoever it was that got the drop on him obviously liked to play dirty. The bastard never made his presence known, and blindsided him.

Something then clicked in Dean's mind with a surge of panic. If he was in this condition, what happened to Sam?

Fighting against the vertigo that made his mind swirl, Dean pushed himself to his feet with a sudden pulse of adrenaline and made a clumbsy rush to the bathroom.

"Sammy?" Dean called in a hoarse tone as he rapped on the door urgently.

Dean then opened the bathroom door, his breath caught in his throat when he noticed the door wasn't locked. Already that wasn't a good sign.

He peered inside the bathroom and saw a couple droplets of blood on the white tiled floor. But Sam wasn't in there. The bathroom was completely empty.

Angry held Dean's gut in a vice-grip. Someone had kidnapped his brother.

**xXx**

When Sam opened his eyes he noticed things were very much the same, yet different in more ways than one. He tried to bring his hands up to rub the headache in his temple, but found that his hands were bound as he sat up, his back against a thick wooden pilar.

He realized he must have been in the old mill. His surroundings were old and worn with age, and then there were the hammocks and cots displayed in front of him.

Sam sighed as he realized he was captured. More than likely by the 'vampires' that they came across. Maybe they saw when the Impala pulled away or something.

He made a mental note to himself to try and guesstimate how many Fangs he was dealing with here, so he began counting out all the beddings.

Wow. Twenty four in all.

That was strange for vampires, Sam knew. Usually vampire nests run up from eight to ten members – hardly ever more than that. If there were any more than ten the vampires ran the risk of being detected by humans.

But then again, these weren't normal vampires – Sam noted to himself.

And telling from their activities over the last few weeks, Sam had a feeling they didn't really care much about being discovered by humans.

A pain in Sam's stomach caused him to flinch as it sent a burning sensation up to his throat. It felt almost like extreme hunger.

Where the hell did that come from?

Just then, there was a loud creeking noise coming from behind him causing his body to stiffen instinctually. Then the man that worked at the morgue stepped in front of him wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He was looking down at Sam with interest displaying in his eyes.

"So…_you're_ Sam Winchester?" the man asked sounding serious, there was no hint of teasing or joking of any kind. Instead he seemed...a little unimpressed.

"Who wants to know?" Sam snapped, eyeing the man angrily. His gut was twisting with the burning sensation, all he wanted to do was get out of there and eat something.

"You can call me Victor." The man introduced almost politely.

"Why am I here?" Sam demanded, his gaze pierced Victor with such intensity he didn't fail to notice him flinch. That sent a spike of pleasure through Sam's hurting stomach.

"You're the one who freed Lucifer." Victor muttered, "You ended the world."

"My brother and I are trying to save it!" Sam snapped, suddenly in a blind rage as he pulled against the binds absently.

"It's futile," Victor said almost sympathetically, "your part of the fight is over, Sam."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle to himself, obviously this guy didn't know about him supposedly being Lucifer's vessel – but Sam decided against bringing that up.

"We've given you a gift for doing us this favor." Victor continued.

"What do you mean?" Sam prodded.

"You've given us reason to come out of hiding." Victor replied with a shadow of a smile, "The world is _ending, _with everything that's happening – I doubt folks will look in this hick town at a couple of bodies drained of blood."

"Well I don't want anything from you!" Sam spat venomously.

"It's too late." Victor whispered, his tiny smile dropping slightly, "It was done while you slept to avoid protest…I know that you still try to play the human hunter of creatures like us. I've just _freed_ you, Sam. You don't have to pretend anymore."

Sam's eyes widened as he slowly started to piece together what this guy meant.

He focused his thoughts on what was going on around him, he knew that this guy couldn't possibly be right. He couldn't be a … a –

No there was just no way.

But then he tried to focus on his own pulse points. With his wrists still bound together, he checked himself for a pulse...

He nearly screamed when after a few moments, he realized that he didn't have one.

"N-no." Sam muttered in disbelief.

"Yes." Victor said simply as he walked behind Sam, and out of his sight.

Sam turned his head to try and see where Victor was going, but couldn't see behind the pole he was tied to. Was Victor just going to leave him like that?

No, Sam knew – he didn't know how he knew. He just did.

Victor was still standing behind him…with someone else.

Sam's stomach twisted with a disgusting pleasure as he realized what was about to happen.

He heard Victor and the other persons' feet scuffle toward him as if they were struggling. When Victor came back into view and stopped in front of him, Sam looked up at the girl he was shoving.

She had to be at least in her late teens or early twenties, her short curly brown hair was frizzed and matted with dirt and sweat – pressed against her sweaty tanned skin. Her blue eyes stared down at Sam fearfully.

But then Victor took two fingers, and pressed them against her pressure points in her neck – rendering her unconscious.

She fell to the ground in a heap at Sam's feet – his eyes never once left her neck as he watched her pulse race in that thick blue vein.

"She's for you." Victor said with a nod as he walked back behind Sam.

To Sam's relief and horror, he felt Victor's hands on his as he realized that Victor was cutting him loose.

Sam actually found himself pressing his body further into the pilar to get away from the unconscious girl. He didn't want to do this.

When his hands were no longer bound, he didn't bother moving them. His eyes were still fixed on the woman's throat.

Victor then stepped back into Sam's line of view, just behind the girl.

"Do you need more motivation?" Victor asked curiously as he too stared down at the girl.

Sam didn't reply. He couldn't, he found that his mouth was far too dry.

Victor nodded to himself, and then knelt down toward the woman slowly. Suddenly, too quick for Sam to follow – Victor used his fingernail to slice a shallow slit on the girls' neck.

A tiny bead of blood slid down her neck leaving a bright red trail. Sam's eyes tracked the bead intently.

"You cant hold it off, Sam." Victor egged on with a shrug, "It's inevitable."

A surprised cough escaped Sam's throat when he felt a strange pop in his mouth. It didn't hurt, but it did feel weird.

He didn't need to feel with his tongue to know that his canines had extended into sharp fangs. This was too weird.

"No." Sam mouthed weakly.

"You have to." Victor replied with a sympathetic smile.

He couldn't help it, he couldn't suppress it, his body seemed to be working on autopilot as he brought his hands in front of him and crawled on his hands and knees slowly toward the girl.

"That's it." Victor encouraged.

With his eyes still transfixed on the trail of blood, Sam lowered his head to the womans' throat right on the shallow cut.

At first he licked at it simply, just to get a taste of it. He sighed with excitement when it tasted like sweet coppery _life. _There was no other way to possibly explain it. It was pure energy, and he needed more of it.

Going just a step further, his gentle laps at the blood turned into his despirate sucking at the closing wound. He felt her blood work naturally by trying to clot around the shallow cut to attempt to stop releasing blood. But that's not what Sam wanted.

His sucking began more rough, and even nipped at her skin gently.

But this wasn't enough, Sam realized with a sigh as the pain in his stomach dulled with anticipation. The beast within his gut knew Sam couldn't fight it. It knew it was getting what it craved it only moments.

With a pain-filled groan, Sam opened his mouth wider around the girls' neck and sunk his teeth in – hard. He used everything he had in that bite, and reaped the rewards as blood swelled from the fresh wounds freely.

He sucked at the wounds, and closed his eyes against the undeniable pleasure. He couldn't stop to think of how wrong he knew this was, because at the moment it just felt so right.

He slammed his jaws down harder, forcing the blood to ooz out faster and into his mouth. He sighed deeply, but still couldn't lift his head.

What had he become?

**xXx**

Dean stood in the empty motel room pacing between the beds back and forth, and then would occasionally go to the window to peer through the curtains.

There was a soft wind ripping across the room, and Dean knew immediately what that meant.

He turned around quickly, and right by Sam's bed stood the fallen angel, Castiel.

Dean had called him on his cellphone (which he still found rather funny,) and told Cas to shag ass to his motel room to help him find Sam.

That was about an hour and a half ago.

"You sure took your sweet ass time getting here!" Dean snapped at the angel angrily, "What the hell took you?"

Castiel sighed, and turned his urgent glare to Dean.

"I was looking for Sam." He declaired with a hint of panic lacing his tone.

"And?" Dean demanded, suddenly not to angry with the angel, but worried for his brother.

Castiel looked at Dean intently before answering. He definitely found Sam, but he knew Dean wasn't going to be pleased.

"The…vampires you were hunting are the ones that took him." Castiel informed.

"Is he okay? Did you see him?" Dean asked fearfully.

"Yes…I did see him." Castiel replied vaguely.

"And?" Dean asked a little more forcefully, not wanting to play games. He just wanted to know where to go to save his brother.

"He's…" Castiel looked down at his feet with sadness.

"He's _what_?" Dean prodded, angrily.

Castiel averted his blue eyes back to Dean's intense green.

"He's been turned."

* * *

_This isn't gonna be like any other vampire story, I promise. Well...not any of the ones I've ever read. Haha. _

_It's gonna get pretty epic, pretty fast, so I'd suggest you stay tuned. :D_


	3. Judgment

_Chapter 3_

* * *

Dean stared at the angel in front of him in disbelief. His brows furrowed in confusion as a million different thoughts rushed through his mind.

"Sammy's been…what?" Dean asked as if he hadn't heard Castiel speak.

But he did hear, he just wanted to be sure he heard correctly.

"Sam has been turned," Castiel repeated with a sympathetic sigh, "into a vampire."

"How? I mean these things aren't even really vampires!" Dean yelled defensively, his brows suddenly sky-rocketing as he argued with the angel.

"But they are." Castiel disagreed, "I know for certain."

"Vampires like that don't exist!" Dean snapped.

"They do." Castiel responded flatly, "And your brother has just become one."

Dean sighed as he scrubbed his face with his hand as he tried to clear his mind. Castiel had no reason to lie to him, so he knew he had to be telling the truth. He just didn't want to believe it.

"For what it's worth," Castiel continued with his intense eyes focused on Dean, "he's fighting against his nature very hard."

Dean's eyes snapped to the angel questioningly.

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded as he lowered his hand slowly to his side.

"It means we may still be able to get through to him if we collect him soon." Castiel implied with a hinting tone as he quirked his eyebrow.

Dean nodded, understanding what the angel meant.

"Let's go." Dean said roughly as he grabbed his keys from the bed.

They were going to go rescue Sam.

**xXx**

After Sam had finished feeding, Victor had decided against locking Sam back up. He figured Sam wouldn't try to make a break for it for fear of Dean's reaction to him.

And sure enough, he didn't run. In fact, once he was sure the girl was dead, his fangs retracted and he didn't move from that spot by the large pillar. Sam just stared at the girl with a mask of horror on his face.

"Don't you feel better?" Victor asked seriously as he knelt down to Sam's eye-level.

Sam didn't reply, but Victor knew the answer. Physically, yes he felt much better. The pain in his stomach was gone as well as the dryness of his throat. But emotionally, he felt he was about to break.

"It'll get easier over time, Sam." Victor said soothingly.

Sam's eyes snapped to Victor's and the look of horror on his face was replaced with unkempt rage.

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I feed again." Sam snapped.

"I really wish you would agree to this willingly," Victor said calmly as he shook his head in gentle protest, "because if you don't feed…that's when the blood-haze starts. It's instinct, you won't have a choice."

"Blood-haze?" Sam questioned.

"You'll kill…a lot. You'll gorge yourself – and you being just a fledgling, are more prone to it. So I suggest you keep yourself well fed." Victor advised.

Sam growled in defeat at Victor. He hated that he had to take at least one victim, he would hate himself even more if he had to take numerous, even worse if he had no control over the matter.

"What am I?" Sam asked Victor in an almost inaudible whisper.

"I think you know the answer to that." Victor replied with a soft shrug.

Sam gave a mirthless chuckle, and averted his eyes to his hands which were placed neatly in his lap.

"I've never come across…this kind before." Sam admitted. He still didn't want to say the word 'vampire'. It was too soon, and he knew saying it would make it real.

Victor offered a small smile, and ruffled his short hair as if he were actually nervous.

"We're different from our…relatives; I suppose you could call them. But in many ways we're the same." Victor explained, "We drink blood, sunlight won't kill you – although it will significantly weaken you, which is why we sleep during the day."

Sam didn't ask any of the cliché vampire questions. He honestly wasn't that curious. He just wanted to be normal again.

"Silver won't kill or even weaken you, nor will garlic or holy water." Victor continued with a chuckle.

"Ridiculous legends." Victor muttered to himself before going on, "A stake in the heart is…uncomfortable to say the least – but it won't kill you, because your heart isn't beating."

Sam said nothing; he didn't need to be reminded that he was basically dead for all intents and purposes.

"However," Victor warned, "like our _relatives_…decapitation, dismemberment, and incineration will kill you…but that's about all."

"When can I leave?" Sam asked hotly, looking Victor in the eye defiantly. Even if he didn't have the nerve to go back to Dean, he could hide out in some town in All-Points-Nowhere.

"You can leave any time you wish." Victor said graciously as he gestured behind Sam to where the door was, "Or you can stay here with others like you and stay in our nest."

"It's not likely." Sam spat.

"I would suggest you stay even for a while, just to accept my teachings." Victor advised softly, "You're so new…you're instinct mixed with your conscious mind is going to be something you're going to have to learn to live with."

Sam scoffed, and nodded. He wasn't necessarily agreeing, but instead he found this humorous.

Just then, the door behind them was kicked in causing Sam and Victor to whirl around in confusion to take a look at the intruder.

To Sam's horror and relief, Dean walked in holding a machete in his right hand with Castiel at his heel unarmed.

"Let my brother go." Dean demanded angrily, as he walked casually over to where Victor was kneeling.

Before any of them could blink, Victor was suddenly on his feet and standing in front of Dean holding him by the throat.

"He isn't _yours_ anymore, son." Victor said threateningly, letting his fangs show.

Castiel suddenly vanished from his spot behind Dean, but then reappeared at the vampires' side and grabbed him by the shoulder to throw him off of Dean.

The vampire soared through the air, and landed at the base of the wooden pillar next to the one Sam sat against.

Dean sent Sam a judging look, but said nothing. Sam met his brothers' eyes, and could tell by the look on his face that he knew what happened to him. Dean knew what he was now.

In a way, it made Sam really uneasy.

Before Dean could say anything, Victor was suddenly back on his feet and pounced at Dean with a look of hungry determination on rage on his face.

Sam wouldn't take that lying down, as fast as Victor had been – Sam was suddenly on his feet, and snatched Victor from his brothers' path with a loud and furious hiss as his fangs descended as well.

Victor said and did nothing as he hit the ground hard on his back, with Sam sitting on top of him. Rage showed clearly on his face as he looked down at his Sire.

"You can't beat me Sam…so please don't even try. I don't want to hurt you." Victor warned, surprisingly a lot calmer than he looked.

"Leave my brother alone." Sam spat.

"By coming here, he's endangered the nest." Victor explained almost sadly, "I can't let him go now. Once the others return they will know that a human and an angel has been here by their scent. And if _I_ don't kill them…then someone _else _will."

"I'll kill anyone who tries." Sam snapped defiantly.

"They have experience which you don't yet possess, Sam." Victor said with a small amused smile, "They can control their urges."

Sam felt his brother approaching from behind, slowly. He felt his brothers' warmth, and heard his blood rush with excitement as he wielded the blade in his hands with skill, readying himself to chop off the vampires' head. Sam smelled the different emotions that ran through Dean's very being as he hastily thought of his next move.

Sam's eyes glazed over as he got lost in his brothers' presence. It was tantalizing his senses, and making his stomach hurt again, as well as drying his throat.

"Sam," Victor called urgently, "I won't let _you_ kill your brother. It will destroy you."

At his words, Sam blinked suddenly and then came back to himself.

He looked down at Victor, and was suddenly able to block out his brother.

Victor looked up at Sam, impressed. Maybe he had underestimated him after all, or maybe he and his brother had a very strong connection. Either way, Victor couldn't help but feel a tiny bit proud.

Dean was then right behind Sam, holding his machete loosely in his hands as he stared past his brother to the vampire he was pinning down.

Victor then retracted his fangs, which Sam didn't see coming.

He kept his eyes trained on the older vampire with his mouth open slightly so that Victor caught a glimpse of his fangs. Instinct told him, it was means of showing another that he wasn't fooling around.

Nodding to the fledgling in understanding, Victor was then suddenly gone. He moved too quickly for any of them to see. One moment Sam sat on top of him, pinning him down and glaring at him threateningly; then the next he was on his hands on knees staring at the floor.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he got to his feet quickly, only to see Dean standing directly behind him holding a machete. Was he going to kill him after all?

Dean was just as shocked as Sam was; he didn't even have time to lower his blade before his brother whirled around and saw him in his defensive stance. Surely Sam took it the wrong way.

As a show of good faith, Dean then lowered the weapon before surrendering it to the floor with a loud _'clang'_.

Sam nodded to his brother in gratitude before noticing that Dean wasn't looking at his face. What caught Dean's attention were his brothers' long and extended fangs.

Sam nodded sheepishly before retracting them, tucking them out of sight.

Dean nodded in approval, and admittedly relief.

"You okay?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam scoffed before rolling his eyes.

"Been better." Sam replied hotly.

Dean's eyes then traveled around the room to see if there was anyone else around besides his brother and Castiel, but soon his eyes fell on a seemingly dead woman by the pillar Sam had just been sitting by.

His piercing green eyes looked back to Sam with certain hardness before he rushed over to the girl. He knelt at her side, and put two fingers on her neck to check for a pulse.

"She's dead, Dean." Castiel called, but his eyes were fixed on Sam as if he knew that _he_ was the one that drank from her.

Dean's eyes were on the girls' throat. Two bright red puncture marks were very visable on her neck. The red marks were surrounded by harsh purple and black bruising – suggesting that her killer was over excited, and got rough.

"Who did this, Sam?" Dean called to his brother, his voice thick as if he were trying to suppress tears.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam whispered sounding genuinely sorry, "I couldn't help myself."

"You couldn't help yourself?" Dean asked sounding as if he wasn't buying it. He then stood to his full height and dared step closer to his brother.

"No," Sam replied honestly, his voice hoarse as he too tried to stop himself from crying, "I tried to resist it Dean, I really did…I-I just couldn't."

"He speaks the truth, Dean." Castiel interjected softly, "I saw up to that point."

Sam's eyes averted to the angel harshly.

"You were here?" Sam asked sounding agitated.

"Yes, for a moment. I didn't want to make a move without Dean." Castiel replied with a stiff nod.

Sam stepped closer to the angel, his sudden rage coming off him in waves.

Noticing this, Sam took in a deep unneeded breath only to steady himself, since he no longer felt the pull to breathe.

Where had that rage come from?

His eyes then fixed on the angel sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry." Sam muttered.

Castiel nodded in acceptance but didn't say anything more.

"Thank you…for finding me." Sam said a little more levelheadedly.

Again, Castiel nodded.

Sam then turned to face his brother, who was now refusing to look him in the eye. Instead he was thinking of a way to get everyone out of here.

"Alright," Dean finally said, "Castiel…go take Sam back to the motel, and track our scent from the other vampires. You know how?"

Castiel looked at Dean curiously.

"Yes, I know how to cover my tracks from vampires." He said almost matter-of-factly.

Under any normal circumstances, Sam would have found his tone of voice humorous.

"What're you gonna do?" Sam asked his brother curiously.

"I'm gonna take care of this body." Dean muttered, still not looking his brother in the eye.

Sam nodded in acceptance as Castiel suddenly laid his hand on Sam's forehead, and the both of them were gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts…and the remains of his brothers' lunch.

* * *

_Hehe, I'm so cruel. Lemmie know what you think! :D_


	4. Sleep Like The Dead

_Chapter 4_

* * *

The moment Castiel and Sam vanished from the dark room; Dean sighed to himself and turned himself to face the dead girl again.

She looked almost peaceful, Dean dared thought…except for the harsh puncture wounds and bruises on her neck of course. But other than that, she could have been sleeping.

Dean refused to think that it was Sam that had done this to that girl. He knew that it was his brother, but he couldn't bring himself to really think about what that meant for them at the time being.

How could this have happened? Dean wondered to himself. This wasn't fair!

Dean released an angry huff of breath that he didn't realize he was holding as he looked down at the dead girl. What was he going to do about her?

Well, he _knew_ what to do with her.

In an angry haze, Dean pulled a small bag of salt from the pocket of his leather jacket, and sprinkled the white substance all over the corpse with a carefully blank look on his face.

He tried desperately not to think of Sam right now.

Satisfied that she was thoroughly covered in salt, Dean slid the bag back into his pocket before pulling a small bottle of accelerant from his other pocket.

He pulled the cap off, and sprayed the body as thoroughly as he had been with the salt.

When the body was damp enough, Dean recapped the bottle, and then shoved it down into his pocket again. In the same pocket, lay his sliver lighter which he pulled out lastly with a steadying sigh.

He flipped the lighter on, watching as the tiny flame sprang to eager life.

With one last look at the body, Dean tossed the lighter on her stomach as he watched with a sick satisfaction as the small flame turned into a large bonfire in only an instant. The flames consumed her entire mass, and Dean knew that she wouldn't be coming back.

Dean knew that this was probably a stupid move, but he turned and walked out of the room with the same blank look fixed on his face. He knew that the fire would eventually catch, and the entire nest would be destroyed.

But Dean couldn't bring himself to care. By taking Sam, and turning him – as far as Dean was concerned these sons of bitches just made it personal.

As Dean walked out of the building, the early morning sun greeted him as it reflected orange rays down on his face making him wince.

Ignoring the sun for the most part, Dean jumped in the drivers' seat of the Impala and drove off full speed toward the motel room.

**xXx**

Back in the motel room, Sam was pacing back and forth between the beds with a certain jittery eagerness. His gaze kept catching on the window with its closed blinds, he felt the sun rising – but refused to sleep even though his body craved it.

Castiel sat on Dean's bed as his eyes followed Sam curiously. In truth, the angel felt bad for Sam; but he wouldn't tell him that to his face because he knew this race of vampire – even if the boys didn't.

The rumble of the Impala was heard outside, and relief flooded through Sam's being. He wasn't looking forward to the impending conversation, but he didn't want to rest either until he knew Dean was alright.

Moments later, Dean walked in the front door with his eyes immediately fixed on Sam as he stood between the two beds looking back at his brother with a guilty expression.

Sam flinched when his brothers' scent wafted in the room, assaulting his now sensitive nose. He smelled like heavy smoke, and leather. But most importantly, Sam noticed that Dean smelled like blood.

Dean slammed the door shut behind him, as he walked all the way in the room.

He then came to an abrupt halt and looked around the room curiously. His gaze soon landed on the angel who was still sitting on his bed.

"Where's the stuff?" Dean demanded as he spread his arms out as a curious gesture before dropping them back down to his sides.

Of course, Castiel and Sam knew that Dean meant the stuff that would mask their scents from the other vampires.

"He," Castiel began with a nod in Sam's direction signifying that 'he' meant 'Sam', "had a certain reaction to the smell."

"Understatement." Sam muttered with an irritated eye-roll.

"Okay…so what – we're sitting here with our pants down?" Dean yelled angrily.

"No," Sam interjected, "Cas set up some charms around the room. We should be good for the time being."

Dean nodded in acceptance as he sighed and went to the small kitchenette to fix himself a cup of coffee. It didn't go unnoticed that he didn't look Sam in the eye.

"So what's our next move?" Sam asked, suppressing a yawn.

Dean put the grounded coffee beans into the papery filter, and put it in the coffee maker before turning back to his brother and Castiel.

"Well," Dean began tiredly, "those vamps are more than likely to be after us once the sun goes down. And there's too many of them for them _not_ to find us."

"Yea," Sam agreed, "but what are we gonna do about it?"

Dean was about to snap at Sam, but bit his tongue. Instead he cleared his mind and thought about another problem at hand first.

"How're you feeling?" Dean asked curiously, his eyebrows knit together.

"I'm fine." Sam snapped back.

"No," Dean replied, "that's not what I mean. When do you think you're gonna need to…um…"

"Dean means," Castiel interjected knowingly, "when do you think you will need to feed again?"

Sam looked between Castiel and Dean with a quirked eyebrow. Honestly, he hadn't thought much about it.

"I uh…I don't know." Sam replied honestly, "This is all really new to me too."

"Did that other vampire tell you anything?" Dean asked as he turned his back on them again to continue making his coffee.

"Just that starving myself isn't an option because I'm so new. Apparently if I even try it, I'll go insane or something."

"Alright then," Dean said sounding a little flustered, "you don't need to feed now, do you?"

"No…" Sam replied with a guilty expression, "I think I'm good for the day."

Dean nodded as he added the water into the coffee maker.

"The sun isn't bothering you, is it?" Dean found himself asking. He wasn't sure what his brothers' weaknesses would be anymore. It wasn't like he was like any of the other vampires they've ever met.

"Not really," Sam replied honestly, "it's just making me tired."

Sam then went on to explain to Dean and Castiel what else Victor had told him about these vampires. He explained to them his new weaknesses, and how vulnerable he really was because he was so new.

"It's just really confusing," Sam admitted as he sat down on his bed, "I know what's right and what's wrong – I know that feeding on humans is wrong…but this…_instinct_ or whatever is sending me mixed signals. I dunno…it's just hard to explain."

Dean turned to face Sam with another judging look in his eyes. He didn't look his brother in the eyes just yet, but he saw Sam's face and knew that Castiel wasn't lying when he told him that his brother was fighting this.

"Don't worry about it," Dean said with a sigh, "I'll be right there with you."

"Yea, but that just makes it all the more strenuous." Sam admitted in a muttering tone.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean demanded.

"Dean," Sam began with an eye-roll, "right now…I can _smell_ you. I smell the smoke from the fire on your jacket, and the upholstery in the Impala. I can taste how angry and bitter you are right now, mixed with the scent of your blood. I can…_hear_ your heart beating from clear across the room! So tell me Dean, how can you possibly help me if I lose control?"

Dean stared at his brothers' jaw wide-eyed. He knew that vampires had far better senses than humans, but it was a shock coming from his brother just how bad it really was.

"We'll figure this out." Dean replied as he tried to mask his emotions a little better, now feeling rather uncomfortable knowing that his brother could _taste_ them.

Sam's nostrils flared as he caught what his brother was trying to do. A smile formed on his face, but he didn't say anything more on the subject.

Sam suddenly stood from the bed, and walked past his brother who was now pouring the freshly made coffee into a green mug.

Dean looked up at Sam and frowned.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked curiously.

"Bathroom." Sam muttered in reply. He didn't have a pressing need to use the bathroom, in fact he wasn't sure if he ever would – being technically dead. But he did need to wash up for bed.

The bathroom itself had a nasty scent all its own, Sam realized before he even closed the door. It reeked of sweat, fecal matter, urine, bile, sex, underneath the stale aroma of cleaning products – suggesting that the bathroom has been cleaned several times.

Choosing to ignore the scents, he closed the bathroom door behind him, and quickly peeled his shirts off before tossing them in a heap on the tiled floor.

Sam placed his hands on both sides of the porcelain sink and leaned against it as his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror with a look of disgust and a sick fascination.

On the surface he looked normal mostly; his skin was the same tone. He didn't look sickly pale or anything like that. In fact he looked as if he were practically glowing with health; but he chalked it up to the fact that he just fed.

His eyes then locked on his eyes in his reflection and he then saw why Dean wasn't looking him in the eye.

Though Sam's eyes were still hazel, his irises looked bigger somehow and more defined as a thick black rim separated his irises from the whites of his eyes. But within the irises, just outlining the black was a thin line of crimson.

But he noticed that Victor's eyes looked human before. Why didn't his? This wasn't fair!

Sam growled at his reflection as he removed his hands from the sink and stood upright; his eyes however, were still locked on his reflection.

Taking in a deep unneeded breath, he opened his mouth slowly and with his tongue he massaged a tiny new muscle on the roof of his mouth, close to his gums.

Sam then felt the familiar pop on his mouth, and relaxed his tongue.

Looking at his reflection now didn't feel real. It was like he was trapped in a nightmare when all he wanted to do was wake up.

To match his eyes, there were now an extended set of fangs protruding from his upper gums where his once dull canines were.

Sam looked at himself horrorstricken, but also with a deep seeded pleasure that felt almost natural.

There was nothing remotely human about the thing that stared back at him in his reflection. And the thought brought a tear to his eye as he began to mourn the loss of his humanity.

**xXx**

Dean stood in the kitchenette with his back leaned against the counter and a hot cup of coffee in his hands. He looked down at the angel who was looking back at him curiously waiting for him to come up with a plan.

"So," Dean began uncomfortably, "what do you propose we do about this?"

Castiel looked at Dean with a quirked eyebrow. It wasn't his place to come up with a plan.

Taking the hint, Dean brought the hot cup to his mouth and sipped absently before lowering it again.

"Is there anything we can do about Sam?" Dean asked the angel almost pleadingly.

"Nothing to my knowledge." Castiel answered honestly.

"What about the angels?" Dean suggested, "Cant they just zap him with their mojo and make him human again?"

"I wouldn't advise going that route, Dean." Castiel warned as he eyed him cautiously.

"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded, "Do you have any other ideas?"

"No," Castiel replied honestly, "but Zachariah will surely torture you into saying 'yes' to Michael if you call on him."

"Well they need Sam too don't they, if they wanna have their little showdown?" Dean asked, his voice on the verge of hysteria.

"Yes," Castiel admitted, "but they will let Lucifer himself deal with Sam as he sees fit."

Dean was silent as if considering what Castiel just said; desperation clouding his better judgment.

"Don't you _dare_ even _think_ about it!" Castiel exclaimed, suddenly angry with Dean.

Dean was taken aback by Castiel's outburst of emotion, but nodded in agreement. He knew that no matter what, summoning Lucifer wouldn't end good…for anyone.

Unfortunately, this only left Dean with one other option. He was going to have to summon Zachariah; he wasn't sure how to do that exactly. And he couldn't exactly do it with Sam and Castiel breathing down his neck, and surely even if he asked Bobby for such a ritual – he wouldn't approve.

For the first time ever, Dean hated that Castiel carved those symbols into his ribs to hide him from the angels. If he were out in the open, surely Zachariah would have come right at them.

So for now he would just wait until he was alone. He would have to wait until he could find a summoning ritual for an angel, and then wait even longer to perform the ritual so that he wouldn't be interrupted.

Just then as if on cue, Sam opened the bathroom door and walked out wearing sweatpants and a loose-fitting light gray t-shirt as he carried his dirty laundry.

He shoved the discarded clothes into his duffel bag which lay by the front door, and then turned around to face his brother.

Dean nodded at Sam, silently telling his brother it was fine for him to rest now.

Sam nodded in return, and then crawled into his bed tiredly.

The moment his head hit the pillow, there wasn't a moment for him to think. His head hit the pillow, and his eyes slid shut as he fell into a deep sleep.

Dean looked at his brother with uneven breathing. He noticed that Sam wasn't breathing as he slept, and it was enough to drive Dean crazy.

It was like when you watch someone hold their breath for a really long time, and then you hold your breath without even realizing it; but you're willing that person to just take a breath.

Sam looked dead as he slept beneath his covers on his bed.

And Dean couldn't bring himself to look anymore.


	5. Breakfast

_Chapter 5_

* * *

_Sam noticed that he was back in the room where Victor had him tied up. He was in the old abandoned mill, only this time he wasn't tied up. _

_He looked down at his feet and saw that the girl he had fed from was still there; her eyes looking up at him non-blinkingly. _

_Feeling guilty, Sam knelt down beside the girl and slowly slid her eyes shut. _

_"I'm sorry." He muttered sadly. _

_"Don't feel sorry for her, Sam." Victor's voice came from behind Sam, causing him to jump to his feet and whirl to face the elder vampire, "She's in a better place."_

_Sam's eyes flicked around the room feverishly, and then noticed that he couldn't smell or hear anything except Dean and cheap furnishing. He was asleep and dreaming, he realized. _

_"What do you want?" Sam demanded, his eyes piercing his Sire intently. _

_"Just to remind you to feed, Sam. That's the most important thing I can tell you." Victor said in a calm, yet stern tone. _

_"I'll have to feed on animals or something." Sam responded with an eye-roll. He couldn't possibly feed on humans, not with a lifestyle like his and Dean's. That would make him a hypocrite, a monster like everything else he hunts. _

_"M'fraid that won't cut it." Victor said softly, "See, it's good for a quick fix until you can find a human…but animal blood just isn't the same. It won't keep you going for long." _

_"Are you telling me…that you _'gifted'_ me by turning me into a monster?" Sam snapped furiously. _

_"I gifted you by giving you immortality." Victor quipped back. _

_"There's no such thing as immortality," Sam snapped with a sneer, "eventually you'll die, your nest will die. I will die." _

_Victor smiled at Sam as if he found humor in his words. _

_"Maybe you're right." Victor replied with a tiny nod, "Maybe one day hunters will finally kill us all off…but they haven't yet Sam, and I _do_ look rather good for my age."_

_Admittedly, that made Sam stop to wonder just how old Victor actually was; he wouldn't bother to ask though. _

_"Now I would prefer not to have to use any sort of influence on you, Sam." Victor said with sympathetic half smile, "But if you refuse to feed…then I will have no choice." _

_"Influence?" Sam questioned. _

_"As your Sire, I can influence you and any others that I've created to do as I wish…lucky for you, I don't really find it right to take away free will. But for your survival, I will surely do it." Victor threatened. _

_"Why the hell would you care about my survival?" Sam spat. _

_"Because you're my child…for all intents and purposes." Victor responded with a nod in his direction. _

_"I'm not your child!" Sam defended, suddenly disgusted. _

_"But you are." Victor replied with a calm smile. _

_Victor looked around the room, and then sighed a deep unneeded sigh as his eyes averted back to Sam's. _

_"Your eyes tell you the truth, Sam." Victor continued in a low voice, "You _are_ mine."_

_Sam went silent for a moment as he looked down at his feet. Rage filled every fiber of his being, just aching to tear this guy apart – yet he hesitated. _

_Victor then continued, asking the unasked question that he knew would come up eventually. _

_"Once you've reached a certain maturity, your eyes can be hidden so that the humans cannot see your true eyes. Although it is tricky…which is why I really wish you would have stayed with me so I could teach you." _

_Sam scoffed silently to himself. _

_"Yea, that's never gonna happen." _

_Victor smiled another amused smile. _

_"Nightfall approaches, Sam." Victor warned in a whisper, "Feed soon." _

_"What about the other vampires?" Sam demanded before Victor could disappear. _

_"They're going to come after you, as I said they would…there's nothing I can say to change their minds." Victor said solemnly. _

_"Why not? Try to convince them -" Sam began to argue, but was cut off by Victor. _

_"I hold no high ranking in the nest, Sam. I only hold a high ranking to you. There is nothing I can say to them to stop them from coming after you. Now I would suggest you leave town before they find you." _

_"No." Sam refused bluntly, "Dean and I came here to kill them, and that's exactly what we're gonna do." _

_Victor smiled again at Sam. _

_"Go get 'em tiger." _

**xXx**

He felt the sun sinking below the horizon line just as it was happening. It was as if he had been in a hot tub for a few hours, and then dived into a swimming pool full of ice. It felt wonderful.

Sam opened his eyes as the motel room was plunged in darkness.

He looked up and noticed Dean was standing by the window with his back pressed up against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest as he watched his brother who was now looking back at him.

Sam yawned lazily, and then sat up in the bed. His eyes still fixed on Dean.

"Did you get any sleep?" Sam asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"A little." Dean lied with a shrug.

Sam didn't bother telling Dean that he could hear the skip in his heartbeat when he lied. Instead he only rolled his eyes, and stood from the bed as he tossed the covers off of him.

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked as his eyes flicked around the room as if searching for the angel he knew wasn't there.

"He left about ten minutes ago to get food." Dean replied with an amused smirk.

Sam understood why Dean thought that was funny and let out a small chuckle of his own. Castiel who was still learning what it was to be human was now learning the importance of food…along with other things – so Dean had told Sam when they were separated.

Dean had told Sam about the time he actually took Castiel to the strip club. And then how Castiel insulted the stripper named Chastity by telling her that it wasn't her fault that her dad left her…that he just hated his job at the post office.

Sam found that humorous.

"I'd be surprised if he actually picks something up that's edible." Sam teased as he walked over to his duffel bag and knelt down so he could fish around for some clean clothes to wear.

After a few moments of digging, Sam was successful as he stood to his full height with a handful of clothes – not the cleanest clothes, but they had the potential to be worn again before being banished to the wash.

Sam cast Dean a sideways glance before heading into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Dean exhaled sharply, and looked up at the ceiling in thought as he switched on the light switch on the wall behind him.

He would take out his laptop right now and look up angel summoning rituals if Castiel weren't due to return any minute now. He couldn't risk being caught.

So instead he thought of Sam, he decided as he turned back around to face the empty room.

Dean had noticed the sideways glance Sam had thrown him, and caught a glimpse of his brothers' eyes. He noticed that the vampire Sam was with and the kid vampire had normal looking eyes – so maybe he too could learn to cloak his eyes in time.

But not only that, but now it was a different night. And he knew that Sam would soon need to feed again.

Honestly, Dean hadn't thought too much about it during the night. He figured an answer would come up and smack him in the face…but it didn't.

As those thoughts crossed his mind, there was a sudden gust of wind which Dean was all too familiar with. He turned his head to the right toward the front door, and there suddenly stood Castiel looking slightly winded with a full plastic bag in his right hand.

"That was quick." Dean said, sounding genuinely surprised.

Castiel shrugged, then handed Dean the bag which Dean took a little eagerly.

He opened the bag and rummaged through it. The contents within the bag were actually surprising; inside lay a few plain bagels, and a couple of donuts.

Dean looked up at the angel curiously.

"Good job, Cas." Dean complimented.

"The woman at the register was rather rude." Castiel pointed out as he took a seat on Sam's unmade bed. "When I asked her what would be appropriate human breakfast food, she suggested that I look in the 'human breakfast isle'. I couldn't find such an isle, so I returned to her and said that she must be mistaken…she then yelled and said people like myself weren't worth a minimum wage paycheck."

"How did you eventually find the right isle?" Dean asked, trying desperately to keep the smile off his face.

"The man who the register woman intruduced to me as her manager said that she meant to say 'breakfast isle', not the 'human breakfast isle'." Castiel explained seriously.

"You did good, Cas." Dean said, repeating the compliment. It was harder to keep the tiny smile from his face this time.

Castiel only bowed his head slightly, wordlessly accepting the compliment.

A moment later, Sam emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with his wet hair combed back and out of his face.

Although he had heard what Castiel had said, he didn't laugh. Instead, his stomach formed knots that began to twist a little bit painfully and he knew where it was going.

Noticing the distressed look on Sam's face, Dean's smile slid into a frown as he found himself edging toward his brother.

"What is it?" Dean demanded tiredly.

Sam looked up at his brother, and Dean did his best not to flinch at his brothers' eyes. Instead he drew in a deep breath and held it for a second before releasing it.

Sam then went on to tell Dean about the dream he had last night, about Victor's visit. He told Dean what his Sire said to him with a hoarse voice.

He told how Victor told him to feed, and that feeding on animals wasn't enough; then went on to tell Dean about how the other vampires would be looking for them.

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a clear look of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, Dean." Sam muttered, his voice thick and ragged as if he were sick.

Dean didn't miss that either. He removed his hand from his face and knit his eyebrows together with a look of concern as he looked over at his brother, as Sam inched closer to Dean slowly.

"You okay?" Dean questioned almost worriedly.

Sam nodded feverishly before replying.

"Yea, I guess I don't really feel so great."

Castiel's eyes widened as he took on a defensive stance. The boys, in their exchange didn't seem to notice the angel though.

"I thought with you being a vampire, you wouldn't get sick anymore." Dean replied a little skeptically as his hand snaked slowly to his back pocket, careful not to make any sudden movements.

"My throat hurts a bit." Sam admitted halfheartedly with a small shrug.

Dean didn't miss Sam's eyes avert to his throat with a look of certain excitement, causing Dean's breath to catch.

Sam started swaying back and forth at a slow pace, and then he picked up in speed. Dean looked at his brother nervously. What was he doing?

A loud pulse rang in Dean's ear as uncertainty took hold. He wasn't sure how to approach his brother right now, but he knew Sam wasn't right at the moment as the vampire stared at him with a frightening intensity.

Dean's eyes suddenly widened as realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. He kept his eyes trained on Sam with a mixture of sadness, and fear as he backed away slowly toward the wall.

Sam was swaying to the loud, and unmistakable fast-paced tempo of Dean's heartbeat.

The vampire smelled the hot fresh blood only about a foot away from him. The liquid-life called to his senses, shouting at him to bite in and take what he needed.

But he hesitated, he knew that this was his brother. He knew if he were to take a bite, he would deeply regret it later.

He could run, he thought to himself. But he knew Dean would follow.

Looking at Dean, Sam knew what he needed, and he didn't care who got in his way.

"Dean." Sam muttered weakly.

Dean didn't reply, he didn't know what his next move would be. For his own comfort, Dean grasped the plastic hilt the newly sharpened knife that sat in his back pocket that he'd been edging towards. He knew he couldn't kill Sam, but he could slow him down.

Sam felt the familiar pop in his mouth, and couldn't help but relish in the excitement of it. He didn't want to, he didn't like what he knew was coming, but he needed to do it.

He opened his mouth exposing his fangs to his prey, showing it that he was the better hunter.

Dean's eyes widened as Sam opened his mouth. Without a second though, he slid the knife from his back pocket and held it in front of him defensively.

That's when Castiel sprung into motion. He stood between the brother's, protecting the human one. He placed two fingers on Sam's forehead, willing the beast to sleep.

It didn't work. He couldn't do it.

With a loud inhuman roar, the vampire tossed the fallen angel across the room with a frightening speed – and in the same motion, he managed to disarm his brother.

"Sam!" Dean shouted at the ravenous animal.

Sam then made a lunge for Dean's throat in a swift, angry motion.

Dean gasped as he felt the pinch of fangs diving into his neck. It somehow hurt worse than a usual vampire bite.

Sam moaned in ferocious content as the sweet blood filled his mouth and slid easily down his throat. The feeling it filled him with was undescribable, yet blissful in a strange way. He could taste the bright and burning sun, along with the thrill his brother got from hunting something evil. He tasted his emotions, his happy, sad, angry, and of course his bittersweet fear.

Sam closed his eyes tightly and sighed with deep content as this human blood filled him with such a feeling of ecstasy that demon blood had never given him.

Sure, the demon blood gave him a sense of intense power…but _this_…

A strong hand gripped the feeding vampires' shoulder, and with a forceful shove – pushed him away from his victim.

With a look that could only be described as animalistic fury, Sam turned to face his apponant only to come face to face with Castiel as the angel stepped in front of Dean protectively.

Dean still stood upright, as he held the bleeding wound on his neck and gasped desperately for breath. Sam hadn't taken that much blood, but if Castiel would have waited any longer – Dean had no doubt that Sam would have killed him.

The thing that stood in front of him, didn't look like his brother. Sure, feature wise, and everything it definitely was Sam. But his mannerisms were all wrong as he looked at them with hunger and rage - his face along with the front of his shirt was smeared in dark dripping crimson.

The vampire growled threateningly, and then hissed fulled exposing his threatening red-stained fangs.

Castiel then made a quick grab for Sam, this time not underestimating his speed as he disappeared and then quickly reappeared directly in front of him.

Quickly, Sam elbowed Castiel in the jaw – temperarily stunning him. It gave him just enough time to make a break for the front door, not attempting to feed from Dean again.

"SAM!" Dean called fearfully as he made a break for the front door, which Sam had left wide open.

But to Dean's horror, Sam was nowhere in sight. The dark sky held the thinning wanning moon just above the empty parking lot of the motel.

Dean stepped outside the room, and sure enough there was nobody there. Sam was long gone.


	6. Trust Issues

_Chapter 6_

* * *

Sam hadn't really gone anywhere. He just had to give Dean and himself a few minutes to cool off. So there Sam stood on the side of the motel building panting heavily, drawing in unneeded breath after unneeded breath.

He could smell Dean as his brother ran outside into the night air after him. He could hear Dean call his name with worry in his voice, but Sam ignored him.

He almost _killed_ Dean tonight, Sam thought to himself guiltily. If Castiel hadn't been there to pull him off, Dean would be dead right now.

Even now, Sam could smell his brothers' blood covering the front of his shirt, and even his face. He lifted his hand to wipe the blood, but was met with his tongue as he feverishly licked away the evidence of his brothers' near demise from his face.

Sam felt self-loathing fill his being as he lowered his hand back to his side. Victor had been right, Sam realized. He _was_ dangerous.

"I hate to say I told you so." an all too familiar voice from just behind Sam sounded, it echoed around him – causing him to startle and whirl around to face his opponent.

There, only a few mere inches away stood Victor looking just as elegant as ever with his hands tucked behind his back and a look of calm seriousness on his face.

Under any normal circumstance, Sam would have been angry at his Sires sudden appearance. Because of course it meant that Victor had been watching him. But tonight, after what had just happened with Dean – Sam admittedly found comfort in his presence.

"You did…and I didn't listen." Sam spat angrily.

Sam for a moment feared Victor would think his anger was directed at him, but he seemed to understand that Sam was angry at himself as he nodded solemnly in understanding.

"You're still going to refuse my teachings, aren't you?" Victor asked with a weary sigh.

Sam drew in a short, disconnected breath to steady himself from giving into the rage that still boiled in the pit of his stomach. Once sure he would be alright, Sam trained his eyes on Victor's in a pleading look. He had to make Victor see why he couldn't just take off with him.

"I can't leave Dean." Sam said in a broken whisper.

"But if you stay," Victor argued sounding almost bored as he seemed to look down his nose at Sam (figuratively), "you risk _killing_ Dean."

Sam didn't reply, instead he averted his eyes from his Sires and looked down at his feet. He tried desperately to fight back defeated tears.

"Killing your brother isn't something you just forget about, Sam." Victor continued, "No matter how long you live, that memory will haunt you forever."

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, and turned his eyes back to Victor – who he noticed was looking at him with a parental authority. Suddenly Sam felt as a child would when getting yelled at by their father.

Victor rolled his eyes at Sam's glance, and moved his hands up to his hips. He looked a little impatient, but caught in a thought.

He then looked down at his 'child' and sighed again.

"Then what if you came to me at night? You can spend the rest of your time with your brother, and do your job – while still accepting my lessons." Victor negotiated.

"I don't know…" Sam thought out loud, "I mean if I come to you at night, then Dean might think it was like when I was with Ruby."

Sam muttered with a humorless chuckle. He was glad that he and Dean were back on track with each other, but that whole year where he was sneaking around with Ruby was always stuck in the back of his mind.

And it seemed he would never escape it. After all, being a vampire wasn't as different as what he had become that year. Back then he drank enough demon blood to drown a person in…now this year it was human blood.

Victor didn't catch on right away. He didn't know who Ruby was, so he only shrugged at Sam and waited impatiently for a reply as he tapped his toes on the pavement beneath them.

"Maybe I could explain it to Dean," Sam continued aloud, "I mean if I told him what I was doing, I'm sure he wouldn't get too mad."

But honestly Sam wasn't sure if that'd work either. The looks that Dean gave him ever since they got back from the vampires' nest was unsettling. If Sam were to tell Dean his Sire wanted to train him…Sam didn't even want to think about that.

And not to mention the fact that working with one of the members of the nest they were hunting would be…a conflict of interest – to say the least. Dean would never approve. And Sam had worked so hard to fix things with his brother so far, he didn't want to mess it up again by sneaking around.

But then again…_biting_ him sure didn't help matters any.

Sam was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a frantic human heartbeat coming from just behind him. His eyes widened in surprise when he heard quick-paced footfalls closing in on him, and someone call his name sounding a bit relieved.

Dean.

Sam turned around to face Dean with a wide-eyed, apologetic stare. He fought back tears desperately when he noticed that Dean didn't look even a little mad – tired…but not mad.

He also saw that his brother had, had a quick change of clothes and cleaned his neck wound – though it wasn't exactly dressed. Sam could still see the two holes in Dean's neck where he had bitten him. Guilt swelled deep in Sam's gut, forcing his gaze to move to Dean's eyes.

Dean came to a halt in front of Sam and took in deep steadying breaths as relief flooded over him.

"What're you doing over here?" Dean demanded.

Sam turned around to glance at Victor, but found that his Sire was no longer there. He must have sensed Dean getting close a while before Sam did.

He turned back around to face his brother, who met him with a confused glare.

"I'm so sorry, Dean." Sam said pathetically, ignoring Dean's question.

"It's fine. You're okay now though, right? You don't gotta feed again right now, do you?" Dean asked, brushing off Sam's apology like it was nothing.

Sam shook his head, but didn't respond. He didn't know how to really. He was ashamed of himself for not having more control, but Dean seemed to think it wasn't a big deal.

But Sam knew better. On the inside, he knew his brother was freaked out.

"Good," Dean accepted with a nod, "go back to the motel room. Cas is gonna stay there with you, I'll be back in about an hour."

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded as his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"I got an idea; something to keep you from attacking people…or me." Dean responded vaguely as he turned and walked toward the front of the building with Sam in toe.

Sam walked to the front door of their room, and went inside – closing the door behind him. Dean on the other hand, headed straight for the Impala with a sigh.

Of course Dean wasn't fine with what Sam did, not yet anyway. But he knew that in a way it wasn't exactly his brother that bit him, he knew that Sam was trying.

But the problem was, Sam shouldn't _have_ to try. None of this should have happened! It was bad enough they were the vessels for Michael and Lucifer, but now they have _this_ crap to deal with? As if they didn't have enough on their plates already!

Dean opened the drivers' door to the Impala and sat in his seat before pulling the door shut. He didn't start the engine right away, but instead kept his eyes trained on the window to their room.

Last night when they found Sam, Dean thought he could summon Zachariah and call in a favor – even though Castiel told him there would be serious repercussions. But Dean didn't care anymore.

There was no other option here. Somehow, someway – he was going to call in Zachariah. He had to get his brother back to normal – no matter the cost.

But until then…he had to make a pitstop.

**xXx**

Sam sat on his bed staring down at his feet with his head in his heads as he balanced his elbows on his knees. The angel paced the room impatiently, trying desperately to keep his gaze away from the vampire on the bed.

Sam couldn't help but think of how awkward this was. Sure, Castiel had ignored him before – but that was before he fell, and he was strictly orders. Now it just felt wrong after everything the three of them had been through.

"Do you know where Dean's going?" Sam asked desperately trying to lighten the mood.

Castiel stopped his pacing, and finally looked down at Sam who was looking back at him through those unnatural eyes. Castiel drew in a deep steadying breath before replying.

"I believe he said something about stopping at the hospital."

Sam's eyes widened and his face paled. Had he hurt Dean so badly that he needed proper medical attention? He hadn't thought so, but maybe he overlooked it.

Sam was about to ask Castiel why, but stuttered over his words when he couldn't properly form the correct sentence. But Castiel seemed to understand anyway.

"No, I don't think you took too much blood from him. As I understand it, he has a plan to sate your hunger."

Sam nodded in understanding and relief. If that were the case, then surely that meant Dean went to get living human blood from donors. Honestly, Sam wasn't sure if that would work. But he was out of other options.

"Cas," Sam began in a serious tone. His eyes trained on the angel intently, who was also looking down at him, "I'm sorry that things are so awkward right now."

Castiel released the breath he seemed to have been holding for a while, and his features relaxed a little as he realized the apology was genuine.

"It's not your fault, Sam." Castiel replied simply, "If I'm not mistaken, it's Victor's fault."

Sam nodded in agreement. There was no argument there.

"But still…you had to literally throw me off of Dean. You shouldn't have had to do that." Sam said in a low tone, his voice thick with emotion.

"I know it wasn't your fault." Castiel repeated intently.

Sam nodded again in understanding.

"Are we good now?" He asked curiously, looking up at the angel sheepishly.

Castiel nodded with a curious look on his face, but Sam knew that Castiel meant it.

"You think Dean's really forgiven me?" Sam wondered out loud, "Or is he just saying he has to get me to shut up?"

To that, Castiel shrugged before replying honestly.

"If he hasn't forgiven you yet, then he will eventually."

Sam knew that to be true, but it still killed him that he had once again pushed his brothers' trust to the limit.


	7. Dead Blood

_Chapter 7_

* * *

True to his word, only about an hour or so later did Dean return to the motel room with a dark green duffel bag hanging from his right shoulder looking rather full – in fact, it seemed to almost be weighing him down.

Once in the room, he dropped the bag on Sam's bed giving his brother a small nod to tell him that he got what he was looking for.

Sam sat by the head of his bed looking back at Dean curiously as he turned toward the kitchenette and pulled out a large black mug from the corner of the counter.

"Any trouble while I was out?" Dean wondered out loud sounding somewhat distant as he poured himself a cup of coffee before turning back around to look at Sam and Castiel.

Castiel sat on Dean's bed, also looking up at him – his gaze seemed more judging, however.

"No," Castiel answered honestly, "just conversing."

Dean nodded slowly and brought the mug to his face and took a sip. When he brought it back down he looked over at Sam quizzically.

"What were you _conversing_ about?"

"Nothing of importance." Castiel replied.

"Dean, I'm so sorry." Sam interjected, giving Dean the kicked-puppy-dog look that under any other circumstance would have had Dean forgiving him instantly.

But tonight, his brothers' usual hazel gaze was outlined in a red…somehow that didn't make it as effective as it did when he was human.

And while even though he did tell Sam that he forgave him, he wasn't entirely sure how to feel about all this just yet. He knew it wasn't Sam's fault, but he still couldn't shake the feeling like he had been betrayed somehow…again.

So Dean did what he usually did under the weight of great emotional pressure…he put his 'game-face' on; he smiled and joked, and buried his feelings so deep they would never ever see the light of day.

"Don't worry about it Sammy," Dean said with a half chuckle that seemed more like a cough, "I got you some units of human blood from the hospital, so you should be good for a few days."

Sam gave Dean a tight half-smile, but didn't say anything.

"So we gonna take out this nest, or what?" Dean asked sounding a bit excited.

"How do you suppose we do that, Dean?" Sam asked incredulously, "We're outnumbered."

Dean shrugged, with a playful smirk on his face as he placed his coffee mug on the counter. He quirked his eyebrow at Sam quickly before he strode to the front door where their bags lay in a neat pile. He pulled his brown duffle bag up by the strap and carried it to his bed where he laid it down gently.

Sam knew it was the bag they kept their weapons in.

Dean quickly opened the bag and dug around for a few moments before withdrawing his silver lighter, and then a large red can of accelerant. He held them up for Sam to see.

"You wanna burn the mill down?" Sam asked with disbelief.

Dean shrugged before answering.

"It's fast and dirty, and the only sure way to get 'em all…unless you got a better idea..?"

Admittedly, Sam didn't. He ran his hand through his hair as he thought about the plan. There was something Dean was leaving out in this little plan of his, and Sam was sure he knew what it was.

"You wanna do this in the morning." Sam said rather than asked.

"You said the sun doesn't kill you…I mean, I definitely wouldn't do this if I knew the sun would kill you." Dean explained.

Sam knew that Dean was right. There was no way to fight this plan, really. All the vampires would be at the mill to sleep in the morning, it was the only time to be sure that they got them all.

Even though the sun would significantly weaken Sam.

Just as Sam was about to open his mouth to voice his agreement with Dean's plan, there was a sharp harsh sounding rapping on the front door. The brothers' looked at the angel, and then the front door.

Dean's smile faded and he quickly put the red can and the lighter back in the duffel bag before zipping the bag shut.

When Dean turned back around to face the front door, Sam was already there looking out the peep-hole curiously.

Sam looked around at Dean and rolled his eyes, on the other side of the door stood the plump older woman maid holding a small stack of cleaned folded white towels.

"Maid." Sam explained to his brother.

Dean relaxed visibly and walked back over to the counter where he had laid his coffee mug.

Sam opened the door quickly, ready to shoo the maid away from their room when a pungent smell assaulted his nostrils, underlined with a more pleasing scent.

Once the door was opened, Sam got a closer look at the maid and immediately hated himself for opening the door.

The maid at the door was clearly dead, her eyes were glazed over in an unseeing sleep while her mouth hang open slightly agape, and a man short bald-headed man stood behind the woman wearing a white t-shirt and grease-stained jeans.

The man was holding the dead woman's' body upright, to fool the brothers' into opening to door.

Sam's eyes widened slightly when he saw the man's' eyes. They were like his, only his irises were dark brown with a red outline. As Sam realized what the man was, the man opened his mouth to reveal his bloodstained fangs.

"Sam Winchester," the man greeted in a deep grunting tone, "I brought you a present!"

With that, the man pulled his hands away from the woman's' back and Sam immediately saw they were covered in her blood…and as she fell over to the carpeted floor of their room in a dead heap, Sam realized with a sickly pleasure how exactly the other vampire held her upright.

A large dark red, almost black hole was visible on her back – through her blue and white maids' uniform, then through her flesh, and her spine. Blood pooled underneath her body, and some of her organs spilled out of the hole as well when the other vampire withdrew his hand.

The vampire had his hands inside her, and held her like a puppet.

That was the smell, Sam realized. It was dead blood, and vampire. It took him a moment to decipher the sweeter scent lying beneath the sour one…and then it hit him when he felt Dean creep up behind him.

It was her fear…the vampire had toyed with her before he killed her, making sure her fear rose to a point where it would take long after her death for it to fade completely.

Sam's upper lip curled up at the sight of her blood with disgust, she was dead…the blood no longer held any value to him, there wasn't any life left in her veins to steal.

Dean noticed how tense Sam shoulders were when the maid dropped to the floor in a dead pile; he put a hand on his brothers' shoulder and called his name questioningly to make sure he was still with them.

"M'here." Sam replied in a deep mutter.

He was sure Dean must have thought he was going to attack and claim the corpse, he probably thought Sam's control was on the line by his stance.

But Sam would never tell his brother that he wouldn't take the still and cold blood from a lifeless victim, there was nothing in it for him. He was dead already for all intents and purposes…what help would the juices from the dead be to him?

And the other vampire knew that too.

The reason he appeared on their doorstep with a dead body was to either insult him, or to provoke his anger.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded with a piercing gaze at the other vampire who was still smiling gleefully.

"Me?" The vampire asked playfully as he pointed to himself with his bloody hands, "I don't want anything…but my friends want you to come back with us, and for your brother here to be carved like a Christmas turkey."

"What friends?" Dean snapped from just behind Sam as he dropped his hand to his side.

"I didn't come alone," the vampire said simply, "the rest are waiting not too far from here."

"Where?" Sam spat.

Before the vampire could respond, his mouth widened with a pain-filled scream passing his lips as a machete blade tore through to the front of his throat from behind and then tore through his neck like a knife through butter.

As the vampires' head dropped to the ground to a sickening 'thud' and rolled toward Sam's feet, the brothers' looked up at their savior.

There, now holding the bloody machete at his side was Castiel looking down at the dead vampire with a vacant expression.

The body of the vampire tumbled to the ground in a heap right on top of the fallen maid. Their blood mingled on the large puddle on the floor and began to spread toward Sam, Dean, and Castiel's feet with ferocity.

"Thanks Cas." Dean said sounding a little winded.

"Do you know where the other vampires are?" Sam asked the angel urgently.

Castiel nodded before responding, he took a couple steps to his right so Sam and Dean could see into the parking-lot just behind him. The angel then pointed to a red pick-up truck with the engine still running with its back facing them.

Sam doubted Dean could see that far, but he could clearly see four figures inside the truck.

"Four others in the nest are waiting for his return." Castiel said simply.

"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered angrily.

"What's the plan, now?" Sam demanded, his voice rising as his temper did.

"I can move us to another motel." Castiel suggested, "Grab your things."

Dean knew exactly what Castiel was suggesting and immediately scowled after rolling his eyes. He wanted to teleport them (or whatever) to a safer location.

"What about my car?" Dean wondered out loud.

"You're kidding me right?" Sam asked angrily, "Leave it! We'll come back for her later, Dean!"

Dean growled lightly, expressing his frustrations as he and Sam turned around and began getting their bags packed and ready.

Castiel stepped over the bodies as the blood coming from them seeped on the pavement just outside of the room, when Castiel was in the room over the bodies – he still managed to step in blood. He hadn't realized that the blood spread into the room, completely soaking the tan carpet making it a dark red/dark brown color.

The blood beneath his feet squished unpleasantly making him cringe slightly so he stepped further into the room. He turned around and faced the open door, and nudged the bodies gently inside the room and out of view of the public, before closing the door quickly behind him.

Sam was done packing first, holding his bag of clothes and personal items, another bag of weapons, and the bag that held the blood units.

A moment later, Dean finished and was at his brothers' side holding two bags of his own – one full of his own personal items and clothes, and the other full of more weapons.

Castiel faced the boys and looked between one another back and forth.

"Are you ready?" He asked the both of them.

Sam and Dean both nodded in unison and closed their eyes tightly before Castiel laid his hands upon each of their foreheads.

There was a heavy gust of wind, and an uncomfortable drop in the boys' stomachs – but just as soon as it started, it stopped. And Dean knew from the smell of dust that they weren't even in the same state anymore.

When he opened his eyes and looked around, his suspicions were confirmed.

Castiel zapped them to South Dakota…in the Singer's Salvage Yard – Bobby's house, more specifically.

This was fine, Dean guessed. Just as long as they were out of harm's way – though he knew they would have to go back to take out the nest, he hoped Castiel knew.

* * *

_Remember...Bobby doesn't know about Sam yet...how do you think he'll react? 0.0_

_I'm awful. Haha. _


	8. Things Unsaid

_Chapter 8_

* * *

Sam, Dean, and Castiel stood in the middle of Bobby's living room. Sam and Dean looked around the room slightly confused, Dean specifically looked winded.

"Bobby!" Dean called curiously, letting the older hunter know they were there.

There was a scuttling sound in the kitchen, and the sound of papers fluttering to the ground was heard as Bobby's impressive swearing came to their ears.

A moment later, Bobby wheeled his chair into the living room looking just as confused as Sam and Dean but as healthy as ever, nonetheless.

"What're you boys doing here?" Bobby asked sounding happy, but still surprised.

"We got into a spot of trouble Bobby," Sam explained, "Castiel zapped us here outta harm's way."

"Where're you comin' from?" Bobby prodded quizzically.

"North Carolina." Dean grunted grudgingly toward Castiel…apparently the angel didn't seem to understand how far away they really were from their case.

"Well come on in the kitchen, and tell me all about it…I just put on a pot." Bobby welcomed as he maneuvered his wheelchair skillfully around the clutter in the living room, and back out the door he came in.

That's right, Dean thought to himself with an understanding nod. The sun would be coming up in a couple of hours, and Bobby was always awake before the sun.

Sam and Dean dropped their bags in the living room by the front door, and the brothers' with Castiel at their heel followed Bobby into the kitchen.

Once they came into the kitchen, Sam noticed Bobby juggling with three mugs in his hands – trying to set them neatly on the countertop so he could pour the coffee.

Figuring Bobby would need a hand while Dean and Castiel took a seat at the table at the far-side of the kitchen, Sam came up behind Bobby.

But Bobby was ready, in the blink of an eye – his wheelchair suddenly faced Sam, and on his good leg Bobby balanced as he rose to hold a silver knife to Sam's jugular.

Seeing the threat and knowing it wasn't a joke from the dangerous look in the old hunters' eyes – Sam stiffened his body.

"Who are you?" Bobby demanded threateningly.

"Whoa, Bobby!" Dean came to Sam's defense rushing from his seat to stand next to Sam, "This is Sam!"

"What is he? Can't you see he aint human?" Bobby asked almost frantically as he dug the knife a little deeper into Sam's flesh.

"Vampire." Sam choked out matter-of-factly, "I was turned."

"Do I look like I was born yesterday, or somethin'?" Bobby asked incredulously, not once taking his eyes from the monster in front of him.

"Bobby, they're telling the truth." Castiel chimed in as he too stood from the table and joined the group with tension hanging in the air, "Sam is a vampire."

His eyebrows knit in confusion as he stared at the thing wearing Sam's face in the eye. His hazel eyes with a thick black band wrapped around the irises – underlined with a deep crimson staring back at him. But beneath the inhumanity in those eyes, Bobby could see just beneath the surface that it was Sam's look; that 'caught stealing from the cookie jar but feel bad for me because I'm cute' look.

"Sam?" Bobby muttered as he lowered his knife, and placed himself back into his chair properly, "What the hell happened?"

Sam relaxed his form visibly before turning to Dean with a wary look. Dean only shrugged at him, telling him silently that he should tell Bobby about what had happened over the past few days.

He started with the case they were on, giving Bobby all the details about where they started and how they ended up in his living room. He said how they met a doctor at the morgue, and how he turned out to be one of the vampires…Victor, to be more specific – his Sire. But these weren't like normal vampires.

Sam then went on to explain how when they got back to their motel room after finding the nest, they were ambushed by more vampires.

"They took me, and beat Dean unconscious." Sam continued sadly.

"Do you know why they took you, and not Dean?" Bobby asked quizzically.

Sam glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye, and noticed that Dean seemed highly interested in the answer of this question as well.

"Yea…" Sam muttered guiltily, "Victor said he chose me because I started the end of the world, letting the vampires come out of hiding. He said it was some sort of reward."

"So these sons of bitches didn't know about Lucifer wanting you as a vessel?" Dean asked with wide eyes.

"It didn't seem like it." Sam replied with a shrug. He then relaxed his shoulders with scoff, "Some gift."

Dean rolled his eyes, and nodded his head in agreement…killing someone wasn't really a sign of gratitude.

But then Dean realized what great news this was that the vampires probably didn't know about Sam being Lucifer's vessel. That meant they wouldn't be expecting angels to take their '_gift' _back.

"But Victor said that he wanted to keep me for a while to train me…or whatever." Sam added in for good measure with a curious eye on his brother, "He said he would even just train me at night if it came down to it."

"Why is this guy so interested in you, Sam?" Dean wondered out loud with his eyebrows knit together in confusion, "There's gotta be another reason."

Sam shrugged simply, "That's the only reason I was given."

Dean thought to himself for a moment, not letting Sam in on his musings. But he was almost certain that this Victor character had something else up his sleeve. There was something he wasn't letting Sam in on just yet, and Dean wanted to know what.

"What about…blood, Sam?" Bobby prodded, squinting his eyes at the young vampire in curiosity.

Sam flinched before looking down at Bobby with a soulful glance, not really sure how to go about explaining anything blood-related to him.

"W-what about it?" Sam asked, not being able to hide the stutter of nervousness in his voice.

"Have you had any?" Bobby clarified, his face relaxing slightly as his expression shifted from confusion to sympathy upon hearing Sam stutter and he knew the answer to his question before it left his lips.

Sam couldn't bring himself to voice his response. He averted his eyes to the floor and nodded slowly.

Bobby nodded softly at Sam's reaction, knowing that this meant he had probably killed someone. Taking in a deep breath to steady himself, Bobby averted his eyes to Dean and his eyes widened upon looking at the boy under closer inspection.

On the right side of his neck were two harsh red puncture wounds that were out in the open, completely undressed. Telling from the redness around the wounds, Bobby could tell they were pretty fresh.

Bobby's eyes then shifted to Sam again in confusion. He had attacked Dean?

Seeing his surrogate fathers' curiosity, Dean went into the story of how after coming too Castiel took him to where the nest was – also being where they were keeping Sam at the time. And how when he got there, Sam had already been turned and had already fed from a human.

Bobby seemed somewhat understanding at that part, and didn't interrupt. He would nod every once in a while, and that was the only time Dean would know if Bobby was really paying attention.

After that, Dean then explained how the next night Sam was caught in the blood-haze, and attacked him.

Again, at that part Bobby seemed to understand. Both kinds of vampires went through the blood-haze, Bobby guessed. He knew that it was an occurrence that happened with most fledglings, where their ravenous hunger got the better of them and dulled them of reason – making them thoughtless as they attacked humans.

And seeing as Sam was only a couple days old (so to speak), Bobby guessed this would happen again and soon.

"So you got a back-up plan to keep him from killing people, genius?" Bobby prodded.

"Dean came up with the idea to get blood from the hospital…donor bags." Sam interjected after having flinched at Bobby's referring to him as if he were a wild animal.

"Do we know if that'll work?" Bobby asked Sam.

"No," Dean replied honestly, "but animal blood won't work…so this is our only other option."

"Damnit." Bobby swore under his breath, not looking Sam in the eye.

"I'm sorry." Sam apologized in a throaty tone, truly sounding remorseful.

"What for?" Dean asked seriously, not entirely sure if he wanted to hear what his brother had to say.

"This is all my fault…I should have been more careful."

"Whoa, are you kidding me?" Dean snapped, glaring at his brother almost angrily.

Sam looked over at Dean curiously, and let him continue.

"You think this is your fault that you got jumped in the shower?" Dean asked somewhat shakily as he tried to control his rising temper, "I can tell you right now, this isn't your fault. We'll find a way to get out of this."

"There's no cure for vampirism, Dean." Sam said sadly.

"Well if I don't find one, then you'll have to adjust." Dean replied matter-of-factly.

"Adjust?" Sam asked sounding alarmed. He was sure he hadn't heard Dean correctly.

But Dean gave a stiff nod.

"Are you _joking_? How am I supposed to adjust to being _dead_, Dean?" Sam demanded furiously.

"It's not that different than what you were doing last year." Dean muttered under his breath, turning his gaze away from his brother.

Sam looked taken aback; he knew exactly what Dean was talking about, but wasn't expecting him to bring it up.

"You think I don't know that!" Sam yelled, keeping a deadly glare on Dean, "I still hate myself for what I did! And now it's like it's starting all over again!"

Dean looked up at Sam, who was full of rage. He could tell that Sam was a hairs way from losing control so he took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Sam…you're right." Dean said a little more calmly, but still meaning what he said. "It's not fair to hold that over you…this really isn't your fault."

Sam took in a deep unneeded breath to calm himself down. Once he had stopped shaking, he kept his eyes on his brother still.

"It's fine." He replied in a monotone voice.

Sam was suddenly overtaken by a certain exhaustion that he hadn't known in a while. His eyes became hooded and glossy, and he suddenly knew what it meant.

He could actually feel the sun rising. It would be up in about an hour or so, Sam knew. He looked out the window by the kitchen sink and saw the sky was a deep purplish pink with clouds streaked across.

"What's wrong?" Bobby asked sounding worried as he noticed Sam's demeanor suddenly change.

"It's the sun." Castiel answered knowingly.

"That's our cue to get going, then." Dean said seriously as he headed out of the kitchen and out to the living room to where they first appeared. Sam, Castiel, and Bobby followed him out – looking a little confused.

"Where are you goin'? You just got here!" Bobby demanded.

Dean lifted one of his bags, the one that held most of his weapons to be exact and pushed it on his shoulder gently before turning to face Bobby.

"There's something we gotta finish…but we'll be back." Dean assured.

Sam nodded in understanding and lifted his own bag that held more weapons.

"But we're gonna drive back here." Dean added, "I'm not leaving my car behind."

Sam rolled his eyes as Castiel got the message. They wanted him to teleport them back so they could take out the vampire nest as they had planned.

Bobby seemed to get it too as he nodded in approval.

"I'll be waitin' for ya then."

Both Sam and Dean nodded in Bobby's direction as a silent 'thanks' before turning readily to Castiel. The angel got the hint, and placed his hands on the Winchester brothers' foreheads – taking them to where they just came from.


	9. Hellfire

_Chapter 9_

* * *

When Sam opened his eyes he knew they weren't in South Dakota anymore. He, Dean, and Castiel, now stood right outside the motel they had bolted from, and directly in front of the Impala.

Dean opened his eyes and smiled down at his car.

"Thank God." He muttered as he turned away from Castiel, and opened the back seat door on the drivers' side before shoving his bag in. He turned to Sam, and took his brothers' bag and stuffed it in the backseat with his bag, then slammed the door shut.

"You guys ready for this?" Dean asked as his eyes scanned the now empty parking-lot besides the Impala.

Sam's eyes averted to the door where their room was the night before. Blood still stained the cement and pooled around the threshold. He lifted his upper lip in a disgusted snarl, before walking over to the passengers' side of the Impala and jumping in the front seat – slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean looked at his brother curiously, but got in the drivers' seat without question.

By the time Dean was situated with his door closed, and the key in the ignition – he looked in his rearview mirror and nearly jumped when he saw Castiel was seated neatly in the backseat right behind Sam looking content.

Dean grunted in surprise, and shifted the gear in 'drive'.

Sam found that the moment the car left the parking-lot that he was going to lose his internal struggle to stay awake. It was as if just the idea of the sun rising made his skin burn, which caused an involuntary shiver to creep up his spine as he lowered his head and fell into a deep sleep.

Dean nearly broke every rule of the road trying to get to the old mill as quickly as the Impala would allow. But they managed to get there in record time, Dean saw with a quirky half smile approval as he looked at the speedometer while he pulled the car to a slow crawl just in front of the old building.

Right in front of the building were a bunch of different types of cars, Dean saw as he shifted the gears of his car into 'park'. All of the cars were old and inconspicuous – including the truck that was in front of their motel room last night.

Dean looked over to the passengers' seat and saw Sam was passed out with his face pressed against the window. It wasn't that long of a drive, Dean thought to himself – how had Sam managed to fall into such a deep sleep so fast?

Seeing the concern in his gaze as he stared at his brother, Castiel piped up – as if reading Dean's thoughts.

"His body is much weaker in the daylight," the angel noted as he too kept his eyes trained on the vampire, "but it will not kill him."

"I know." Dean muttered sounding almost defeated as he stared at his brothers' motionless chest. His lungs didn't take in air as he slept which caused Dean's heart to wrench. How far gone was Sam, exactly?

"This is a good thing, Dean." Castiel said matter-of-factly, resulting in Dean finally tearing his eyes away from his brother to pin the angel with a death-glare.

"What is?" Dean snapped.

"Look at him." Castiel said simply as he motioned his head toward Sam's sleeping frame.

Dean's eyes quickly snapped back to his brother for a moment, before looking back at the angel curiously.

"If Sam is like this right now, there is no doubt that the others are asleep as well." Castiel elaborated.

Dean's eyes widened and he nodded slowly in realization.

"But they can wake up." Dean commented stiffly.

Making his point, Dean placed a gentle hand on his brothers' shoulders so he didn't scare the vampire, and shook him lightly.

"Sammy, we're here." Dean announced.

Sam's eyelids fluttered, and his head turned to face Dean but he wasn't awake exactly.

Dean patted Sam's chest a little harder.

"Come on, Nosferatu. Get up!" Dean joked forcefully.

Sam groaned and finally opened his eyes groggily to stare at Dean.

"What's up?" Sam muttered tiredly, blinking his unnatural eyes of sleep…as if he'd been asleep for hours rather than just minutes.

"We're here." Dean repeated as he leaned over the back of his seat and dragged his heavy bag to the front seat, on his lap.

He dug around in the bag for a moment and pulled out the red can of accelerant, and his little silver lighter with a glint of certain excitement in his eyes. He then turned to his brother who was still in the process of waking up.

"Ready?" Dean asked worriedly.

Sam only nodded in reply, and shaded his eyes with his hand as he scrambled out of the Impala.

Dean looked out his own window and saw that the sun wasn't even up all the way. It cast a sort of deep orange, almost red light around his dead surroundings that brought an eerie sort of glare to everything…but by no means was it extremely bright.

But nonetheless, Sam seemed to react badly to the light anyway – so Dean figured the sooner this place was destroyed, the sooner he could grab Sam and book.

Dean quickly got out of the drivers' seat, and closed the door behind him with the items still in his hands. He nearly jumped again when he saw that Castiel was suddenly standing outside the car, right next to him – as if he'd been there the whole time.

Dean blinked and took in a deep breath and decided against voicing his discomfort as he turned away from the angel and walked over to his brother who was standing in front of the old mill just staring at the open door – revealing its dark, almost pitch black interior.

Staring at the door made the fine hairs on the back of Sam's neck rise. Something wasn't quite right, this was far too easy.

Right when he was about to tell Dean, he looked over and saw that his brother had already began pouring the clear liquid contents of the red can around the outside of the mill. It was made of wood too, so the fire would catch much quicker.

"Dean, hold up." Sam said in a hoarse voice, "This seems too easy."

Immediately Dean stopped splashing the accelerant on the building, and looked up at his brother in confusion.

"Ya know," Dean said thoughtfully, "I was just thinking the same thing."

"We got a 'Plan B'?" Sam asked in a whisper.

Dean looked at the building in front of him up and down for a moment before looking back to his brother who looked more and more tired and pale as the moments passed.

They had to find Sam someplace dark to sleep, and fast.

"Not really." Dean said with a shrug, "I guess we keep with this plan, and if any vamps give us any trouble, we'll kill 'em the old fashioned way."

Sam knew his brother was referring to cutting their heads off, so he shrugged and allowed Dean to continue emptying the red cans around the property.

After a few minutes, Dean dropped the empty red can at Sam's feet. He had managed to spill the clear foul-smelling liquid all around the building and then some, Dean realized with a sigh of relief.

When Dean was finished, and went to join Sam – he gave his brother a curt nod.

Taking the signal, Sam looked up at the sky and noticed the light blue tint that now underlined the sky – signifying that the sun was seconds away. So without a moment to spare, Sam flicked the silver lighter open and smiled at the tiny flickering flame as it immediately came to life. He then dropped the lighter, and watched with sick pleasure as the entire mill went up in thick black smoke and red flames in just moments.

After watching the fire for a couple of minutes, the sound of pain-filled screams filled the air – filling Sam with certain warmth he thought would be lost forever. The voices called out for no one in particular, but they were so full of anguish and defeat and fear – Sam had to close his eyes against the wonderful song that made the sick hunger in his gut purr with contentment.

The moment the screams pierced the air around them, Dean jumped slightly. He didn't know why, but even though he was certainly used to the assault on his eardrums – it still always startled him a little. The screams were heard over the sounds of the crackling fire, and loud enough to drown his own pulse that had been ringing in his ears.

A memory suddenly caused Dean to blink rapidly to try and wipe it back to its hiding place in the back of his mind. A memory he knew would always be there, that always rose to the surface and invaded his dreams as he slept. A memory of Hell.

To Dean's relief, Sam didn't seem to notice. In fact…Sam seemed unusually tranquil.

Dean snapped his head in his brothers' direction and looked taken aback at how calm – and at peace Sam seemed to be. Almost as if the gruesome scene before him was one that brought joy.

"Sammy." Dean called in a light voice trying to snap his brother from his trance.

But Sam didn't seem to notice as the chorus of screams seemed to grow louder.

Dean looked to his other side suddenly and saw Castiel at his side looking slightly concerned, but not at all disturbed.

He guessed it was just him then, Dean thought to himself with a huffed chuckle.

Sam suddenly snapped out of his happy place when he felt a familiar presence appear from seemingly out of nowhere directly behind them. He blinked in confusion, and turned to his brother – who caught his head movement out of his peripheral vision and glanced back at him questioningly.

Sam looked over at the angel on the other side of his brother and noticed that Castiel was no longer facing the fire – but was facing the other direction.

Catching this, both Sam and Dean turned around to face who or whatever is was.

There, standing next to the Impala ghosting his hand over the hood of the slick black car without touching it – was Victor looking smug, excited even.

"Good job, boys." Victor said with a certain glee that didn't go unnoticed by Sam.

"What are you talking about?" Sam demanded, not trusting his Sire this time.

"You killed the nest!" Victor replied with a brilliant smile on his face, as if he got a joke that Sam and Dean didn't.

"And that's a good thing..?" Dean asked, suddenly confused.

"As a matter of fact, it is." Victor informed, his smile never faltered. "You see…I told Sam here that I hold no superior ranking in the nest – that part's true -"

"But you do now." Sam interjected as realization struck him causing his eyes to widen.

Victor nodded, and his lips thinned out with a certain frustration.

"I wasn't lying then, my ranking in the nest was pretty low – embarrassingly, in fact. I wasn't even aloud to hunt on my own. Very degrading, especially for someone of my age and experience." Victor informed as his eyes averted to Sam with a certain fondness, "So imagine my restrictions when it came to creating children."

"You…turned me without telling anyone?" Sam snapped, his anger reaching the red, "Why?"

"Because you opened a whole new window of opportunity to better myself." Victor replied, "You raised Lucifer! You ended the world, boy! I saw this as my golden ticket out of that mess when I heard you were in town!"

"Why?" Dean spat venomously.

Why did these sons of bitches always use Sam like this?

"Well, I wasn't allowed to turn anyone – as I mentioned. But this was the one that brought on Lucifer! The reason my _old_ master said we could have a free-for-all in the town! Kill our fill." Victor explained, his smile widening, "I figured it would be a blessing to my nest if I turned Sam Winchester and got him to accept my teachings and join our nest."

Sam growled, but didn't say anything. Dean put an anchoring hand on his brothers' shoulder – a silent message to keep it together.

"To my surprise however, the master didn't approve. He said it was a stupid move, that Sam Winchester had a higher purpose that I wasn't aware of…and that I hadn't blessed the nest, but damned it." Victor continued.

So Victor's old master knew about Sam being Lucifer's vessel, Dean understood. And surely he knew that Lucifer himself would torch the whole nest for killing his vessel (in a manner of speaking).

"So then I was sentenced to death." Victor informed, "But you see, I escaped. And that's why I was there last night to see you feed on Dean."

Dean looked at Sam accusingly; Sam never mentioned he was visited by Victor last night. But Sam didn't look at him.

"I wanted you to come with me so I could train you. Because together – I knew the both of us could tear down this hell-hole of a nest, and I would place you under a high ranking in my new nest." Victor continued excitedly, "But you refused…so I left you. And when I left, I then realized that I didn't have to do anything! I realized that you were hunting my nest and that's why you were there! I didn't have to lift a finger!"

Sam felt the familiar pop sensation in his mouth and realized his fangs had lengthened. But he couldn't bring himself to care as he kept his rage-filled eyes trained on the other vampire.

"I am my _own_ master now." Victor muttered happily to himself.

"You used me." Sam spat.

Dean noticed that Sam looked downright terrifying with his red eyes and sharp fangs showing in his slightly agape mouth.

"In a manner." Victor admitted with a shrug.

Sam hissed at his Sire furiously, sounding like an angry cat.

"Why are you here revealing your plan, then?" Dean asked Victor angrily, "I mean you're just standing there, acting like I'm not gonna kill you myself."

"You won't." Victor tested.

"I won't? Wanna bet?" Dean challenged.

"I'm so sorry, boy. I meant you _can't_." Victor corrected himself, sounding almost pleasant.

"Can't?" Dean questioned with disbelief.

Victor nodded wordlessly.

"Why?" Dean spat.

"I'm far older than I look, boy." Victor replied with a chuckle, "You think I got that way with _luck_, or _idiocy_?"

Dean didn't respond, but instead plastered a phony grin on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was a defense mechanism, he knew. He did it to seem more confident than he really was. It was a way to make his opponent think he would kill him.

But Victor didn't look the least bit threatened.

"Why I'm _here_," Victor answered matter-of-factly, "is because I still want Sam."

"Not gonna happen!" Sam growled out.

"You are my son…my creation, Sam. I want you in my nest – join my family." Victor sounded almost like he was pleading, but kept a certain confidence laced around his words that chilled Sam to the core.

It was like Victor knew Sam would join him no matter what.

But Sam kept glaring at his Sire spitefully as he sensed Dean standing right next to him. And Sam held out against Victor, he had to.

A memory of him after the effects of drinking demon blood flashed through his mind, causing him to snarl visibly. In his memory, he knelt over Dean's beaten body – and grabbed his exposed neck with the intent of squeezing the life from his brothers' throat.

But out of mercy, Sam released him and headed toward the door after accusing Dean of not really knowing him.

_"If you walk out that door," _Dean had said in a hoarse and defeated voice as he remained on the ground still too weak to get up, _"don't you ever…come back!"_

He couldn't leave his brother now, Sam said to himself.

So he planted his feet on the ground firmly, with all intents of staying at Dean's side no matter what.

Victor wouldn't have him, he decided defiantly.

* * *

_Questions? Comments? You with me so far? Haha. _

_It's only gonna get crazier from here, folks. :D_


	10. Sire

_Chapter 10_

* * *

The dark orange flames that engulfed the mill were finally beginning to die down, as the last of the screams from its victims inside had become muffled and eventually stopped all together. Black smoke twisted and turned and danced its way into the early morning air, bringing with it a stench of burning wood and death.

Sam and Dean and Castiel stood with their backs to the mill as they stared down Victor, Sam's Sire with threatening glares.

"What say you, Sam?" Victor asked with a shadow of a smirk playing on his face.

"I say, screw you!" Sam growled, flashing his fangs in warning.

Dean glanced at his little brother out of the corner of his eye, as his heart swelled with pride. Sam was actually _dead_! And still, after everything they had been through in the past year – hell, this past week…they were still brothers.

"I need you, Sam." Victor admitted half-heartedly.

And in that moment, Dean realized there was something wrong. He recognized that look and that tone that Victor was giving off. It was a poorly constructed poker face. Dean eyed him warily, knowing that this Victor wasn't what he seemed, and he had an Ace up his sleeve that he was just waiting to pull out.

"Go to hell!" Sam spat angrily.

Victor's smirk turned into a full on giddy smile with pure joy glinting in his eyes as he stared at Sam.

_"Come here, Sam." _Victor commanded, although his voice was all wrong. A deeper, more powerful undertone played beneath his command – making his voice sound as if it were coming from everywhere around them. His words wrapped themselves around Sam's mind, and pulled – giving him no choice but to obey his Sire as his anger dissipated and was replaced with a blank and mindless look as we walked toward Victor slowly.

Without thought, Dean withdrew his pistol from his waistband and clicked the safety off as he aimed it at Victor's head. The shot, he knew wouldn't kill the vampire but a headshot would certainly slow him down.

"Let him go!" Dean demanded furiously as Sam stood by Victor's side, now turning to face his brother. His mindless look was quickly replaced with a look of pure and utter confusion.

"I told you once Dean," Victor replied with a shake of his head and a look of disbelief on his face, "he isn't _yours_ anymore."

"I don't…belong…to anyone." Sam muttered sounding slightly disconnected, as if forming sentences was difficult for him.

"Oh really?" Victor challenged with a chuckle, _"Retract your fangs."_

Without missing a beat, Sam obliged to Victor's command, and his lengthened fangs disappeared instantly. He tossed his brother a pleading look, which Dean didn't miss.

Without warning, Dean suddenly fired off three shots directly into Victor's head – one after the other. Surprised, Victor staggered back as a loud inhuman roar emitted past his lips, echoing all around them. Taking the opportunity while his Sire was so weak, Sam grabbed Victor's face in his hands and with a hatred that seemed to simply seep from him he twisted until a loud _'CRACK'_ was heard around them, finally making the loud roars cease.

"He's not dead!" Sam yelled furiously, taking a quick glance at his brother. He noticed that Dean had lowered his gun, and was now staring at Sam wide-eyed.

Sam knew his brother was looking at him like that because he was a freak. It was no secret anymore.

Anger spiked in his gut, causing him to get over-excited – and with very little thought, Sam tugged on his Sire's head and watched with sick pleasure as his head separated from the rest of his body with another _'CRACK'_ followed by a tearing noise. Sam smiled as dark gelatinous looking blood flowed from the gaping hole where Victor's head was once placed when the body fell to the dirt with a _'THUD'_.

Sam looked at his blood-soaked hands as he still grasped the prize in his hands with excitement. He actually felt rather satisfied with what he'd done…which of course sickened him. Realizing what he had done, Sam's eyes widened as he tossed Victor's head to the ground beside his body.

Thick dark blood started pooling around the body and Sam's feet, Sam was on the verge of panic and stepped out of the large puddle hurriedly.

He had just killed someone – it didn't matter that what he killed was a vampire, but he had killed someone with his bare hands. And he couldn't just stop at breaking his neck, no – he had to decapitate the thing! _With no weapon!_

Suddenly, there was an anchoring hand on his shoulder – and Sam knew without looking that it was Dean. He would have at least spared his brother an apologetic glance, but still his eyes were fixed on the body.

"You had to," Dean said in a low comforting voice, "he would have taken you and started his own nest."

"I-I," Sam swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat as his eyes were still trained on Victor's pieces, "I know…i-it's just…I did that…with my bare hands."

"Hey, I know." Dean replied with an eye-roll, being careful to keep his voice soothing and calm, "But you had to. Come on, now. We gotta go to Bobby's. You can sleep in the car."

At the idea of sleep, Sam's body seemed to like that idea as it suddenly felt sluggish and about ready to drop off. Finally Sam turned his miserable gaze from the blood-stained body, and looked at his brother. He offered a tiny nod, and turned toward the Impala.

Dean sighed and looked back toward Castiel, who looked somewhat anxious, himself. He kept his blue eyes on Dean's green, with a knowing look.

"You gonna get in the car with us? Or are you taking the Angel-Express?" Dean asked Castiel tiredly as he scrubbed his hand over his face in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure forming behind his eyes.

Castiel cocked his head before replying. "I'll go to Bobby's and tell him that you'll be arriving soon. I will then get in the car." And with that, suddenly the angel was gone.

Not wanting to know what Castiel meant when he said 'I will then get in the car', Dean shook his head and headed back toward the Impala.

Once he reached the drivers' side with his hand on the door handle, he looked in the car and saw that Sam was already fast asleep in the passengers' seat. His eyes widened at his little brother, it had only taken him a minute. He must have been exhausted.

Sighing deeply, Dean finally opened the door and got in behind the wheel, and closed the door behind him. He chanced one last glance at his brother worriedly, before sliding the key in the ignition and starting the engine.

They had a long drive ahead of them, and Dean knew that once Sam woke up he'd be hungry. He just hoped that when Sam woke up he'd have enough sense to go into the back and get a blood bag, and not attack him again.

**xXx**

Bobby rolled his wheelchair into his library and looked through his many books, which he had laid around the room in a certain order. His library basically consisted of his desk in front of the fireplace and a large clutter of books which only Bobby and Sam seemed to understand how they were classified.

Well, Sam got it because no one else seemed to want to try to understand. But everyone knew that whenever Sam had any sort of downtime he buried his nose in a book.

At the thought of Sam, Bobby's heart constricted with grief. The poor kid, all he ever wanted was a normal life – away from what his dad and brother did. But instead he accidently frees Lucifer from Hell, and then gets turned into a vampire against his will.

Only the Winchesters, Bobby thought to himself.

Bobby then turned his attention back to the stack of books that completely consumed his library. He muttered to himself gently until he finally found what he was looking for, and finally pulled it out of its stack gently so the rest of the books piled on top of it didn't fall to the floor.

After a few moments of shimmying the book out successfully without causing the other books to topple over, he opened the dusty dark brown leather-bound book, and skimmed through the yellowing pages. Finally he came to the chapter he was looking for, and let the book rest open in his lap as he read the section about vampires.

"They're on their way back." A deep voice suddenly announced from behind Bobby causing him to jump out of surprise. Quickly, he grabbed the silver knife he kept under his good leg, and held it up as he spun his chair around to face the intruder.

Relief flooded through Bobby when he noticed that it was Castiel. He then placed the knife back in its hiding spot, and kept his eyes trained on the angel.

"How did the hunt go?" Bobby asked Castiel curiously, wanting to know what condition Sam and Dean would be in when they got back.

"The nest is dead," Castiel informed with his hands hidden behind his back and his face looking relatively blank, "and so is Sam's Sire."

"Good." Bobby muttered as he adjusted the hat on his head thoughtlessly.

"I should get back to Sam and Dean." Castiel said seriously, "Just in case Sam cannot sate his hunger with the blood bags."

And in the blink of an eye, Castiel was gone and Bobby was alone in his library again.

Bobby understood what Castiel was implying when he said he needed to get back, and suddenly Bobby was fearful for Dean. Would the bags work? Or would Sam go for Dean again?

Desperate to know more about these kinds of vampires, Bobby looked downward at the book in his lap and resumed reading.

* * *

_Yup, I'm back from my trip! I hope everyone had a great Spring Break! I know I did! Haha. _

_My muse for this story has returned, so I decided to make my come back with this one. I know it's a pretty short chapter, but the next chapter will be longer. ;)_


	11. Awkward Car Rides

_Chapter 11_

* * *

Dean had spent the entire day driving, having only stopped once to stretch his legs and heed to natures' call. But now he sat behind the wheel of his car with his hands gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. He would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous.

The sun was beginning to sink in the sky, and dusk was fast approaching. He knew it was only a matter of time before Sam finally woke up.

Every once in a while he would sneak a glance over at his little brother who looked alarmingly dead in the passengers' seat. His still chest and cool skin the most nerve-wracking to Dean. But it still seemed like he wouldn't wake for a while still.

Castiel sat patiently in the back seat gazing out the window behind the drivers' seat, seemingly more interested in the world around him, than the threat in the passengers' seat as house after house and tree after tree passed before his eyes.

When Castiel first arrived in the vehicle (while the car was actually doing seventy down the highway), Dean had tried to start a conversation with the fallen angel, but Castiel being him had no idea what Dean was talking about when he started talking about his favorite bands.

So most of the ride was spent in silence. Though it did give Dean a good idea to one day teach Castiel the beauty of Zepplin, when he was up to it.

Luckily though, to Dean's relief – they would be at Bobby's soon.

Well…mostly that was lucky for him, so Sam would be slightly more distracted. But for Sam, he wasn't so lucky. Dean admittedly was still set on going to the angels. He had to get them to fix Sam, that was their only shot and he knew it. Sam couldn't live (for lack of a better term) like this forever.

And Dean knew that by them going to Bobby's he'd be watched more vigilantly. Bobby seemed to have eyes everywhere in his own home.

To Dean's surprise there was a low groan coming from the passengers' seat causing his mind to snap to attention as his eyes fell to his brother who was finally moving around albeit sluggishly.

"Heya, Sammy…how'd ya sleep?" Dean asked with a smirk plastered on his face, game-face carefully intact.

Sam worked the kinks out of his neck before blinking his red-underlined eyes at his brother blearily. "Where are we?" He asked hoarsely, ignoring Dean's question.

"Little Grove, Missouri." Dean replied matter-of-factly, "About another four or five hours till we get to Bobby's but you slept through the worst of the trip."

Sam hummed half-heartedly and nodded before tilting his head back to where Castiel was sitting in the back. The angel's attention was drawn from the window to Sam who nodded a curt greeting. Castiel didn't reply, not knowing what the vampire's intentions were just yet.

That's when Sam started to feel it; the tightness and dryness in his throat, and the stomach pangs that called out for that thick crimson life he knew was only about an inch from his reach. His eyes shifted toward his brother out of curiosity and longing.

But his gaze was interrupted by Castiel shoving a thick medical unit full of dark blood into Sam's line of sight.

Blinking feverishly as the trance broke; Sam glanced back at the angel and nodded a silent 'thank you' before taking the unit into his own hands.

He looked down at the blood in his hands with a semi-disgusted look. It technically wasn't dead-mans blood, so it wouldn't harm him. But just from sniffing the stale liquid, he knew it wouldn't be as satisfying to him as it was when it's fresh from a vein.

But he knew that this was what he had to do. He knew that he couldn't risk killing another person for his own sake.

Dean shifted his eyes from the road to take a look at Sam, and then the unit in his hands curiously. "You alright?"

Sam glanced at Dean quickly and nodded. "Y-yeah…or – I will be."

Understanding what Sam meant, Dean nodded stiffly. "Alright well, eat up. You need to keep up your strength."

"What about you?" Sam prodded, hoping Dean had been eating properly.

Dean shrugged without taking his eyes away from the road before replying with a defensive smirk on his face.

"Blood ain't really my thing, Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes out of frustration. "When was the last time you ate, Dean?"

"Couple hours ago." Dean lied, "Don't worry about it, Sammy. I'll eat soon, alright? And you can babysit, to make sure I'm eating enough."

Sam knew that was meant to be a joke. Dean's appetite was practically insatiable. He constantly had something in his mouth, though bacon cheeseburgers were definitely his favorite…next to pie.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and winced when suddenly the pangs in his stomach became more persistent, and sharper.

Not being able to deny his needs any longer, Sam tore open the unit and brought the plastic sack to his mouth before he drank its contents down greedily. With a frustrated growl, instinct came roaring to the front of his mind –causing his sharp fangs to lengthen with little less than a thought.

Dean snuck another glance at his brother and nearly cringed at the sight before him. There was Sam – his little brother, drinking down a medical unit of blood as if it were a Slurpee.

Sam closed his eyes against the onslaught of disgust that shuddered through him as he choked down the cold and thick substance. What he usually got out of fresh was the unmistakable fire burning through it – life. But _this_…? Sure it sated his hunger, but there was no liquid-fire in this bag…just cold sloppy seconds.

The taste was slightly old, probably a week or so – Sam deducted silently. And if he wasn't mistaken, there was the underlining taste of bittersweet fear wrapped around in there as well. This blood probably came from someone who was afraid of needles. That at least was a welcome flavor.

Once the bag was empty, Sam tossed the sack into the back seat where Castiel discarded it back into the bag where he found it.

"You good?" Dean asked, eyeing Sam warily as he licked the remained red liquid from his lips and chin.

Before answering, Sam took in a deep un-needed breath to steady himself. His mind was a whirlwind of instinct and thoughts, and at the moment he was focusing solely on his more human thoughts rather than vampiric.

When Sam was confident enough that he wouldn't attack his brother, he retracted his fangs as he glanced over at Dean and scoffed. "I'm good."

Satisfied, and slightly relieved – Dean pressed the gas a little harder – trying to get to Bobby's house as soon as possible.

**xXx**

True to his word, only about four hours later – they arrived at Bobby's house. Dean parked in front of the house, not bothering to pull into the driveway and killed the engine.

When he looked behind him into the backseat to see if Castiel was alright, the angel was nowhere to be found. Dean chuckled, and knew he was probably in the house already.

Turning his attention to Sam, looking a little worried he nudged his brother on the shoulder. "You alright?"

"Stop asking if I'm alright! I'm fine, I promise!" Sam snapped with an impatient eye-roll.

"Well you sure don't seem fine to me." Dean replied grudgingly.

"It's been a long day, Dean – that's all!" Sam quipped back a little more calmer, "I just don't…I don't know what I'm supposed to do Dean."

"About what?" Dean prodded curiously.

Sam scoffed as he looked down at his own lap, before looking back up to his brother. "About everything! I can't just live like this forever. And around other hunters?"

"Well you're not living, technically." Dean quipped back jokingly.

"Not helping, Dean!" Sam snapped impatiently.

"Alright, alright!" Dean surrendered before sighing deeply and getting completely serious for Sam's benefit, "Seriously, Sam…just hang in there, okay? Bobby and I will work on something to get you human again."

Of course he was just saying that for Sam's peace of mind, when really he already knew how he was gonna help Sam. He would be completely human soon enough.

"And other hunters?" Sam repeated.

"We'll worry about that if the time comes." Dean said with a shrug.

He was sure to say '_if_ the time comes' because as far as he knew, no one else knew about Sam being turned. It wasn't a big deal right now. And no one would ever know, if Dean could just have about an hour alone.

"But for now…let's just focus on what's in front of us." Dean said with deep serenity, "You know…the Apocalypse and all."

Sam nodded in curt agreement before opening his door and climbing his large frame out of the car quickly – closing his door behind him. As Sam got out, Dean did the same – locking the drivers' door before heading toward the house with Sam at his side.

There waiting for them at the door was Bobby in his chair looking apprehensive as the boys approached him, behind his wheelchair stood Castiel staring ahead blankly.

"The hunt went well, I hear." Bobby commented motioning his head back to where Castiel stood.

Sam and Dean paused at the front steps in front of Bobby, nodding slowly.

Bobby looked over the boys carefully, his eyes traveling from Dean to Sam in a slow manner. He inwardly sighed with deep relief upon seeing Dean looking relatively unharmed. The units of blood must have worked in abiding Sam's hunger.

"Alright, come inside." Bobby invited with a huff, "I just put on a pot. I wanna hear all about this last hunt of yers."

Even though he knew the hunt was pretty successful, seeing as he got the vague cliff-notes from Castiel before they got there.

Sam and Dean nodded again before coming up the front steps and helping Bobby back into the house, closing the front door behind them. They had a lot to talk about.

* * *

_Dean's gonna get in touch with the angels soon...How do you think this is gonna pan out? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this story so far! :D_


	12. Sick Little Games

_Chapter 12_

* * *

It was around mid-afternoon when Bobby sent Dean into town to pick up some food. Of course, Dean saw this as his opportunity to get the alone time he needed, since Castiel had vouched to stay behind to keep an eye on Sam while Bobby researched.

Quickly and quietly, Dean shoved some things into his duffel that was specifically needed to summon Zachariah. Once packed, he quickly shoved the dark green bag into the back of his car and crammed himself into the driver's seat before peeling off toward the town.

The air around him was thick and humid, and dark clouds hung in the sky blocking the sun out – forewarning of the storm that would hit them later that night. But Dean figured he wouldn't be around to see it.

Dean didn't even bother to get a final look at Sam before leaving. He decided it would be best to not remember him how he is now, as something they hunt. But try and remember him being human.

Ah jeez, thinking like that made it seem like Sam was dying! So Dean shook his head of the depressing thoughts, and kept his focus on the road ahead of him.

Dean knew that the minute he stepped on Bobby's property again, Bobby and Castiel would be all over him. He knew they weren't stupid, he knew that if he arrived late with the food delivery just after Sam mysteriously changed back into a human – they'd be suspicious. They'd know he did something he shouldn't have.

But he didn't care. Dean decided that he would willingly give himself over to Zachariah if that meant saving his brother.

Just down the road from Bobby's stood an old building that was once probably someone's home, but from the looks of it – it hadn't been lived in, in a few years. It was disheveled and crippled as the graying shingles on the roof were albeit gone, and the dark brown of the outer foundation of the house sported wide holes, big enough to fit about two Victorian doors right next to each other.

For now, it was perfect, Dean decided as he pulled his car to a crawl on the house's property, and drove it just behind the house and out of sight of the major road. Just a little insurance in case Castiel or Bobby got suspicious and decided to go looking for him. It'd be a little harder to spot his car, here.

Quickly, Dean turned the car off and dived into the backseat and withdrew his duffle bag he had just packed. Once in his hands, Dean opened his door and got out of the car, closing the door behind him.

He took a look at the house as he slung his bag over his shoulder, and took in a deep calming breath. He knew this was probably a really stupid idea, but he was out of options.

That's when suddenly, his phone started to ring from his pocket. Dean closed his eyes in frustration. How could he have forgotten to turn his phone off? He then dug his free hand into his leather jackets pocket and pulled out his cellphone.

He held it up and noticed that the ID flashed 'Castiel', and sighed.

Dean debated whether or not to ignore the call for a brief moment before deciding against it. What if Sam had woken up early and was hungry? What if he couldn't get to his blood unit bags in time, and decided Bobby was an All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet?

Suddenly nervous, Dean flipped open his phone, and held it up to his face.

"Hello?" He greeted curiously.

"Dean?" Castiel asked sounding slightly alarmed, which only succeeded in cranking up Dean's nerves.

"Of course it's Dean, you called me, Cas!" Dean snapped, "Now what's wrong?"

"Right," The angel agreed, now sounding a bit more calm, "Bobby told me to call you to let you know he found you a job."

Dean visibly deflated and was suddenly glad he was alone so no one could see how transparent he was in that moment.

"And he couldn't tell me that himself when I got back?" Dean wondered.

"He said that it would assure you would hurry back." Castiel replied almost accusingly, and Dean didn't miss it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked defensively, tightening his grip on the phone he held to his face.

"It means we're hungry, ya idjit!" Dean heard Bobby yell over the other line. It was then clear that Castiel had Dean on speaker phone.

He nodded to himself and cleared his throat. He didn't miss the accusation in Castiel's voice, meaning the angel knew what Dean was probably up to. And if Castiel knew, then he probably told Bobby. This would explain why Bobby suddenly had a job for them to work. And if Dean knew Bobby, he'd keep giving them jobs – trying to keep Dean busy so he won't give his soul to the angels.

This was stupid, Dean thought to himself. It's his body, he should be able to do what he wants with it, even if that means letting Michael have it.

But then again, if Dean let Michael in, he knew the world would come to a screeching halt and burn. But this was the only solution in order to save Sam, right?

Dean sighed again as he thought about it. Fine, then – he decided. He would play Bobby's game. He would take Sam all over the country in his condition and see how things worked out. Meaning, he would take every case Bobby tossed in his lap happily.

This would give Dean time to think things over a little more thoroughly. But if summoning the angels was the only plan left, Dean would do it.

"Alright, alright!" Dean exclaimed, playing Bobby's game, "Keep your skirt on, I'll be there soon."

Without waiting for Bobby's reply, Dean closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket. He inhaled deeply before opening the drivers' side door and getting back into his car. He tossed his duffel back into the back before closing his door and ramming his key into the ignition.

For now, he would have to live with Sam being the way he was. And Sam would have to as well. It would take some adjusting on both of their parts (mostly Sam's), but Dean was almost certain it could be done.

…_Almost_…

Maybe…maybe they would learn to be brothers again, Dean wondered as he pulled the car away from the abandoned dump and back onto the main road toward the diner.

He really hoped they could be brothers again.

**xXx**

Castiel strolled into the library where Bobby was in his wheelchair, looking through his shelves for any particular book that would help fix Sam.

Sensing a presence behind him, Bobby stiffened and arranged the wheels on his chair to spin him around to face the newcomer quickly. Upon seeing Castiel standing in the threshold holding his cellphone in a firm grasp, Bobby visibly relaxed.

He guessed he was so on-edge because he had a vampire in his house - and a newborn at that. All vampires were dangerous at the best of times, but newborns were especially ravenous.

Yet, even as a newborn vampire Bobby found he couldn't turn Sam away, no matter how much his hunter's instincts told him to kill it.

So for now, Sam slept on the couch in the living room with the curtains drawn tightly shut as he cocooned himself in thick blankets to keep out the light.

"You really think Dean would have gone to the angels to fix Sam?" Bobby wondered to the fallen angel aloud.

Castiel shoved his phone in his pocket, but kept his intent gaze locked on Bobby. "I do. Dean had actually brought the idea up a while ago to me. And seeing as we have found nothing else that would help Sam, Dean will probably offer himself up to Zachariah to save his brother."

"First he offers himself to demons to save his brother, and now angels…" Bobby muttered with a mirthless chuckle as his eyes fell to his own hands which were placed on the armrest of his chair.

"I beg your pardon?" Castiel asked, clearly not hearing Bobby.

"Nothin'." Bobby shrugged off as he looked back up toward Castiel, "Just a sense of _déjà vu_ is all."

"I'm sure we stopped him from attempting to contact the angels for tonight anyway. He should be back soon." Castiel assured somewhat vacantly.

"Should you go and check just to be sure?" Bobby wondered with a quirked eyebrow.

"I don't think that would be wise." Castiel admitted with an almost guilty expression on his face.

"And why's that?" Bobby spat, already knowing what the angel was getting at.

"Sam is asleep for now," Castiel said sternly, "but that does not mean he will not awaken. He has very little control over his actions, making him unpredictable and dangerous. He nearly killed Dean, just two nights ago – and would have succeeded if I had not interfered."

"No offence Buttercup, but I've been huntin' for a while now. And I've known Sam for quite a while as well…I don't think I need your help keepin' him under control." Bobby snapped back defiantly.

"I don't know who Buttercup is…" Castiel admitted looking genuinely confused, "But if Sam's own brother couldn't keep him under control, what makes you think you can?"

Bobby had to admit that Castiel had a point there. He knew it was just his pride getting in the way, because he was overcompensating for his legs. And surely he would have felt stupid if after all this, Sam wound up killing him. But he was a hunter with every fiber of his being…even though he couldn't walk; he was determined to show he wasn't useless.

But it just so happens, Castiel was right about this one. Sam wasn't exactly himself these days, and if Dean or Castiel weren't there to help, surely Sam would kill him.

"Alright," Bobby agreed with a solemn nod, "You win."

There was a sudden sound of distant shuffling, which caught Bobby and Castiel's attention. The angel turned around toward the other room while Bobby looked past Castiel in time to see Sam shuffling his feet lazily as he walked toward them sleepily.

"Sam…" Bobby called curiously as he looked toward the window seeing the sun was still up, "Why are you up, boy?"

Sam halted just behind Castiel, and crossed his arms over his chest – hiding his hands. He was in his gray t-shirt and black sweatpants, feeling vulnerable from being so naked and awake during the sunlit hours.

But Sam ignored Bobby's question and turned his attention to Castiel. His unnatural eyes glaring at the angel intently, Castiel he noted was mirroring his glare.

"Cas…go find Dean." Sam finally said, his voice thick with sleep, "I'll be fine here with Bobby."

"Sam - " Castiel began as he cocked his head, imploring Sam to see reason. But Sam cut him off before he could finish his thought.

"No, I promise I'll be okay." Sam reasoned, "I have a whole bag full of…_snacks_, just in case. I promise when you get back, Bobby will be in one piece."

"Dean won't like this idea, either." Castiel tried bringing Dean into it, in a final attempt to get Sam to back down.

But to his dismay, Sam shrugged. "He doesn't need to know. Just keep outta sight when you find him."

"Sam…this is not a good idea." Castiel repeated with pleading eyes.

"Just go…" Sam ordered a little harsher than he intended.

Bobby rolled his eyes as the angel looked back and forth between Bobby and Sam, his mind a whirlwind as he tried to quickly decipher what to do. Making a quick decision, Bobby pulled his knife from its hiding place beneath his seat and placed it neatly on his lap. Both Castiel's eyes and Sam's averted to the newly sharpened, shiny weapon.

"Go on…" Bobby assured Castiel with a calm nod, "If he gets outta hand, I'll be okay to deal with him."

Castiel's eyes shifted to Sam quizzically, to see the vampire was looking back at him with his dark eyes shining as a ray of light caught his face through the window. He looked uncomfortable, his jaw was clenched and his knuckled wound tight as he rode out the discomfort stubbornly. Even still, Sam nodded at Castiel, assuring him that he would be okay with Bobby.

The angel sighed before looking back toward Bobby. "I won't be long."

And with a sudden gust of wind, strong enough to whip the stray papers from Bobby's desk, and onto the floor in a miniature whirlwind – Castiel was gone.

* * *

_Can Sam be trusted with Bobby? Hm...Who knows? :)_


	13. Dinner Time

_Chapter 13_

* * *

For a while, Bobby would have been lying if he had told anyone he was completely fine being left alone with Sam. His hunting instincts instructed him to keep a close eye on the vampire, and keep his guard up – which he did with ease. His blue eyes gazing intently on Sam as he lowered himself into the leather desk chair just in front of the slightly opened window.

Sam looked at the spots through the drawn shades where the light penetrated and bright rays entered the room. His instinct told him it was only a matter of time before the sun went down, and that he should be patient. So for now he was left with only partial strength.

His sensitive ears picked up Bobby's shaky deep breath, and quickly sensed his fear – drawing his attention to the older man with sudden interest. He wasn't lying to Castiel when he told him he wouldn't attack Bobby. So he reeled in his vampiric curiosity, and replaced his apprehensive look, to a comforting one for Bobby's sake as he offered his surrogate father a half smile.

"Do you mind if I close the shades a bit more?" Sam requested in a low voice, trying not to startle Bobby.

The older hunter quirked his eyebrow curiously, but nodded before licking his dry lips and replying. "Not at all."

Sam nodded in gratitude before turning to face the window again, and pulling the dangling white strings gently – releasing the shades of its half open position, closing it completely.

After letting go of the string, Sam turned his attention back to Bobby – which he noticed made him slightly uneasy as he grasped the hilt of the knife that was placed neatly on his lap.

"I swore I wouldn't hurt you, Bobby…and I won't." Sam assured him with pleading eyes.

He knew it would be hard to regain Bobby's trust because of what he had become. And not to mention the things he did in the past. Hell, he was the reason Lucifer was out and walking free; and all because he wouldn't listen to Dean and Bobby's pleas.

Bobby blinked back his rushing emotion at Sam's promise, and sighed. "I know _you_ wouldn't, Sam. Just like I know _you_ wouldn't ever really hurt Dean."

Sam visibly flinched, and didn't offer an immediate reply. He knew Bobby was right. He didn't have very much control over himself these days.

"I know." Sam finally replied.

Feeling a familiar feeling form in his gut, and the back of his throat – Sam got up from his seat, immediately gaining Bobby's full undivided attention. Sam looked down at Bobby and rolled his eyes.

"I'm just getting something to eat." Sam assured with a slight pull on his upper lip into an almost smile. He couldn't help but find it a little funny how normal that statement sounded as it passed his lips.

Bobby visibly deflated – not quite relaxing, Sam could still smell the nerves that still ran highly through Bobby's blood – but he let Sam pass him to get to the living room.

Sam walked quickly into the living room, and headed over toward the side of the couch next to the coffee table where he and Dean stored their bags so they weren't in anyone's walking space in the small living room. Barely glancing at which bag he was grabbing, he hoisted one up onto the couch by its strap and unzipped it.

Of course he didn't need to see which bag he was lifting, he could smell it. It smelled far less appealing than Bobby did, but Sam decided to force the nasty stuff down his throat in order to keep himself from going after his surrogate father as he had done his brother.

Sam shuffled through the units of blood for a moment, and noticed something that made him huff a silent chuckle to himself. Each pouch of blood had a different blood type labeled on it. Sam wasn't sure whether or not Dean did that on purpose to keep his options open, or if it was a complete accident. He'd have to remember to ask him later, Sam decided.

After a few long moments of deciding which sack would best suit his hunger, Sam pulled out a unit which read "A Positive". He was still new to this 'life', so he couldn't yet decipher between the blood types by taste. Though, Sam found that he could smell and taste the difference in emotions, but he figured that was instinct.

All Sam knew was this cold, stored, second-hand blood was nasty no matter what type it was.

You know how no matter what food you're eating, it's always best the day it's made? Hot and fresh out of the oven, and all. You then save and store the leftovers for the next night, and nuke it in the microwave so you won't have to cook again? But once you take that first bite of the secondary meal, you realize it's not as good as it once was, and has lost some of its flavor and appeal. Well, that's what kinda meals Sam was condemned to spend the rest of his now immortal life on.

But at least it kept him from killing others, Sam thought to himself with an eye-roll as he subconsciously squeezed the sack in his hands a little harder. He wasn't sure when, but Sam knew that one day these units won't be enough and he'll gorge himself in human blood. It was only a matter of time before instinct took over, and his inner beast sure didn't settle with the cold blood units.

Predictably, Sam heard a soft squeaking of somewhat rusted wheels coming from behind him and knew Bobby had come in to check on him. The vampire turned around with the unit still in hand to face the older hunter with a look of desperation and frustration clear on his face.

Bobby sighed, giving Sam a silent apology with a sympathetic glance. It broke his heart to see Sam so miserable. He remembered how good and innocent Sam used to be when he was just a child – no older than three, the first time he, Dean, and John showed up on his front step. He was curious to learn the goings-on in the world, and was just an over-all good natured kid.

Dean of course was a great kid as well, but he was definitely his fathers' son. He believed in shooting first, and then asking questions later. He just wasn't as innocent as Sam was. Good natured, and cocky as all hell – just not as innocent as his little brother.

Now here Sam stood before Bobby, twenty three years later, broken, defeated, and _dead_. His future looks very bleak no matter how you look at it. Either he remains as he is, a creature that was already dead, but hasn't lost its will to stay on the earth – drinking blood to feel the warmth that once fueled his living body to remind him of what he was once – and at some point in his immortal 'existence', lose everyone…even Dean.

Or…

Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Castiel find some way to make him 'human' again (if that's what I even _was_, Sam thought to himself grudgingly), and look forward to a future where he's locked in his own subconscious, leaving friggin' _Satan_ in control of his body to burn the world down, and flip it on its ass.

Sam didn't deserve any of this, Bobby thought to himself as his eyes remained fixed on Sam, who in turn kept his eyes fixed on him.

Suddenly, Sam's throat lost all moisture and a scorching pain took hold all the way down to his stomach, causing him to gasp in surprise.

Not missing the movement, Bobby tensed and his eyebrows knit together in confusion as he gripped the hilt of the large hunting knife in his lap harder. "You alright, son?"

The sound of Bobby's quickened heartbeat was tantalizing, Sam's mind whispered to him as his eyes traveled from Bobby's eyes to the throbbing vein in his neck. It would be easy to disarm the elder hunter, and take the liquid life pulsing through his aged body.

But he suddenly snapped back to himself, when he found he was still squeezing the sack of blood in his hands to the point where it was on the verge of busting. His red rimmed eyes lowered from Bobby's neck, to the cold blood in his hands, and growled with frustration.

Bobby clearly startled at the sudden noise coming from Sam, but still he edged closer to the hungry vampire cautiously. "Just drink from the bag, ya idjit!"

Sam caught the façade instantly, knowing Bobby was speaking with false confidence. His blood ran high with his nerves, and Sam could smell it. It smelled much better than the contents of the unit in his hand.

And still…Bobby wheeled forward.

Sam shot his hand forward, silently telling Bobby to stop coming closer; the older hunter thankfully obliged, but kept his wide eyes fixed on Sam as the vampire looked downward at the bag in his hands hungrily.

With no more words, Sam's fangs quickly lengthened – causing his mouth to hang open in Bobby's general direction, looking somewhat threatening, though his gaze was locked on the bag in his hands and not on Bobby who was definitely keeping his bulging eyes on Sam.

"Sam?" Bobby questioned in a near whisper, wanting to know if Sam's human mind was functioning at the moment.

An animalistic growl forced its way from Sam's throat, giving Bobby his answer as he watched the vampire suddenly plunge his sharp fangs into the unit of blood as if it were a small animal instead of a tiny bag, and drink the dark red contents down greedily.

Bobby watched in awe as Sam quickly drained the bag, spilling only a tiny river of crimson that dribbled lazily down his chin. He would be lying if he said the sight hadn't terrified him.

It wasn't that Bobby was afraid of vampires in particular. He was only afraid for this one – Sam, and what would happen to this vampire if he attacked someone he cared for while under the influence of the Blood-Haze. Bobby wouldn't really make a move against Sam, as he knew Dean wouldn't either. So if ever he were to go for them, with no one around to pull him off…Sam would eventually snap out of the trance-like state, and have to go on through his immortality knowing what he'd done.

As that thought crossed Bobby's mind, Sam finally pulled his face away from the sack looking slightly winded, but relieved at the same time. He turned his eyes toward Bobby, keeping his red-stained lips slightly agape so he could get a good look at his fangs.

Suddenly, the front door swung open with an exasperated looking Dean holding a white plastic bag holding their food for the evening. To Sam and Bobby's surprise, Castiel came in right behind Dean looking as emotionless as ever.

Dean turned back and slammed the door closed before turning back to Sam and Bobby. "You send the humanoid angel to spy on me…really?"

He and Castiel get a better look at Sam and realize with equal relief that he had just fed…and not on Bobby.

Visibly deflating, looking a little more relaxed, Dean heads toward the dining room area with the bags still in hand. "Now, who wants Chinese?"

* * *

_I gotta admit, I'm a little disappointed guys. _

_This story got 0 reviews last chapter. I'm not complaining, I'm just curious - am I doing something right? Or have I turned my readers off with this story? :(_


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